Another.

There’s a pleading in his voice. A sound I recognize from my own. Begging to be wanted. Trying to turn my heart from stone.

There’s a want that can’t be given. A hope that will go unfulfilled. Grasping at air the further away I’m driven.

Funny how they come in droves. The ones you don’t want, don’t need, don’t care to know.

Funny how the ears of Sea drunk men hear only a song they need to guide them through the night. The same men who can’t find their way down their own hall without their night lights.

He doesn’t want to know me. He wants the hope this song fills out all of his emptiness; his ambiguous Sea. Men like him beg to be the only one to which I’ll sing.

It’s funny how they all beg for the same generic over played melody.

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