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April 16, 2020

Our Aloneness is Art. {Poem}

 

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We’ve turned our aloneness into art.

We wake to the sunrise and let rays of light stroke our bodies like a paintbrush.

We take the confusion, the ecstasy, the sadness, the fullness, and

the blood that runs through our veins

and use it as ink

to splay thoughts on paper.

Our aloneness is art.

Each tear and each smile is a mural of blue and yellow.

Each footprint walking bravely, one after the other, is

a painting of resiliency.

Every conversation with God under the moonlight is

a poem of softness.

The laughter pouring through our lips is

a melody of the wisdom that lies innately within us.

Our aloneness is the art

that saves us

over and over,

and over again.

Our aloneness has arms that cradle us,

and hands that hold us

when we have fallen—naked on the linoleum floor

with nothing but our flesh, and

bones,

and beating hearts.

Our aloneness has angels that sing to us

as we fall to our knees.

Our aloneness is holy.

Our aloneness deserves worshipful praise.

Our aloneness

is art.

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Tori Allenspach  |  Contribution: 3,920

author: Tori Allenspach

Image: Author's Own/ Instagram

Editor: Kate Force