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?