Written under the name wordsforghosts, the poem begins with how the mind works: thoughts, images and feelings merge into something strange, and we try to rein it in with words. The speaker says that can't work. Desire is like wild horses, and neither feeding it nor talking about it will tame it. What's left is an empty space inside us, a solitude that no amount of consuming can fill.
The tone is frank, even blunt. The speaker admits that we are sometimes scared, lonely, hurt, or just horny, and that we're animals born into an indifferent universe, wanting comfort and answers that pull against each other. Instead of offering a cure, the poem asks us to forgive ourselves and stop fighting our instincts. The mood is quiet and a little bleak, but it ends on a firm note. The last two lines turn "acceptance" from surrender into strength: facing our own loneliness honestly is a form of defiance.