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The world is lonely while they cry for help and                     they reach their hands up. In words, in books, in paintings,                     they portray their loneliness hidden or blatant. But even that isn't enough to highlight                     the lowlights of our lives It's in our blood, it's in our veins, our bones,                     it's in the cigarettes that we smoke. Which fills the air and wails out loud,                     screaming a symphony of isolation. It's hidden in the corners of the cities,                      hidden in the tall green grass of the countryside It's everywhere you look, in famous words,                      in ancient books. It fills your mind, it takes you hold, it's in the tiniest key hole,                      but enough. It's enough to spark a burning fire, to long for another's touch,                      to feel desire From another human being,                      to share in what is the only thing worth keeping Human company. We long, we dream, we scream for it,                      and we hope it favors us too. It's overwhelming, it makes me, it makes me long                      like so many others We are not alone in our loneliness                      and what a queer thought that is “Wir können uns einreden, dass wir mit einem Buch nicht allein sind, wie wir uns einreden können, dass wir mit einem Menschen nicht allein sind.”
0
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
Verschlungene zusammen (Entwined together)
The world is lonely while they cry for help and                     they reach their hands up. In words, in books, in paintings,                     they portray their loneliness hidden or blatant. But even that isn't enough to highlight                     the lowlights of our lives It's in our blood, it's in our veins, our bones,                     it's in the cigarettes that we smoke. Which fills the air and wails out loud,                     screaming a symphony of isolation. It's hidden in the corners of the cities,                      hidden in the tall green grass of the countryside It's everywhere you look, in famous words,                      in ancient books. It fills your mind, it takes you hold, it's in the tiniest key hole,                      but enough. It's enough to spark a burning fire, to long for another's touch,                      to feel desire From another human being,                      to share in what is the only thing worth keeping Human company. We long, we dream, we scream for it,                      and we hope it favors us too. It's overwhelming, it makes me, it makes me long                      like so many others We are not alone in our loneliness                      and what a queer thought that is “Wir können uns einreden, dass wir mit einem Buch nicht allein sind, wie wir uns einreden können, dass wir mit einem Menschen nicht allein sind.”
© Amara Pendergraft 2013
orbitalmucus
Written by
27/Trans Male/American
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 10:20 AM UTC
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