Lonesomeness is like hollow, transparent tubes coiled within my flesh.
My flesh can neither fill nor touch these empty spaces.
In them, piercing, whistling winds run through.
I stand on the ground with these tubes, with my mouth half open, fingers hanging bewilderedly in mid air
Bereft, at a loss, helpless,
Not having a clue.
Jan 30
Jan 30, 2026 at 10:53 AM UTC
Lonesomeness is like hollow, transparent tubes coiled within my flesh.
My flesh can neither fill nor touch these empty spaces.
In them, piercing, whistling winds run through.
I stand on the ground with these tubes, with my mouth half open, fingers hanging bewilderedly in mid air
Bereft, at a loss, helpless,
Not having a clue.