Different Place Different Time
Same script, Same lines
Lonely souls and one alone
Bound in Breadth, but not in depth
Similar in Vein but not in kind
but Similar enough in my mind
The math says I'm bound to find others
Others who resonate and hear my frequency
"It's a numbers game"
I tell myself-
Over and over until I go under.
There must be others
Erased by the system and from Existence;
the cracks multiply and leaks grow
until their tsunami is contained in teacup.
But what if outliers are still syncratic
Why do I leak aporia over and over again?

Is is a broken glass girl
The crack started small
Broken under the pressure of her life and her pain
And with every breakdown the spread
From her heart to her limbs
Tiny fractures foreshadowing her end
And she crumbles more and more each day
Dying slowly but not entirely

Life changes,
Filling with
Fractures
That tear down
Once perfect
Childhood memories

; –
    Keep me up at night with your
  praises and your melodies of sweet
  tidings, but let me sleep
   to the sound of your screams and
    angry sentiments.

Give me that of my own choice.
  give me the availability to choose that of
   which slumber I'd prefer from you.

The boughs of a placid embassy
fall flat when the citizens
become the crumbling pillars
that hold up the already fractured foundation.