The way we run on with nothing
yet fuel up at first thoughts.
We are vacant to say
but fume on privacy restrained.
We think ourselves a blank billboard
but our surface is beehive tension busy.
The humming within gets louder
as the hidden hive grows larger.
What we want to fall out of the sky
has no place to safely land within us.
Everything else is magnified bother
slowly reduced into our burning ash.
We are identifying with being
the runt of our own first litter event.
Yet each subsequent circumstance
rushes to the forefront to be foremost.
Everything that is new and exciting,
is eventually the same once again.
Yes, we are living it alive
yet we still manage to be so alone.
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