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i was born alone
there is no one
i will ever know
like i know me
i am alone
i touch others
and feel their touch
like a bubble
i will be alone
if i can’t love me
then how
can i love another
i will die alone
maybe then i will get
to know me
or not
as the case may be
This entry was posted on 13.09.13 by Kyle. It was filed under life is beautiful, poetry, rose and was tagged with existentialism, no tags, poor poetry, real feeling, satre and all those cunts.
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Really liked this piece , ill have to see more now !!
14.01.08 at 13.57
Pingback: Auntie Sandee on the Ass of Death | 1800ukillme
You just described the rest of us too. All of us.
13.09.14 at 16.58
Existing, it’s hard. My loneliest times were spent with people around me, or being with a lover. So I guess, “Alone” is just what we deal with when we exist.
My ‘spiritual guru’ says helping people, volunteering, etc. — or just working to be kind to others — not aggressively — just in understanding, compassion and being a source of peace — when you can be — is a way of identifying or “touching” people.
And it’s true. But really, we are alone. People crack me up when they say they want a partner so they won’t die alone. Even if you die the same time as your partner, you’ll die alone. And most times one will die and the other will die later.
Sorry for the three paragraphs.
13.09.13 at 20.04
any time, and wise words sandee – thank you
13.09.16 at 09.48
You are loved even by people who don’t know you.
13.09.13 at 19.38
aw thank you
13.09.16 at 09.47
~♥~
13.09.13 at 19.09
♥
13.09.16 at 09.47