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?