You are always alone.
Crowded rooms feel empty.
Inner pain keeps ones distant.
Solitude echoes within you.
Do they know the rising darkness?
To not connect, to be hollow.
A highwire that you balance on alone.
The silence of suffering.
Claims of love slip off your skin.
Only the air of desolation is breathed in.
Your loneliness never erased.
A search that never fulfills.
The Magic Shop 
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