Empty

sunken eyes and a hollow heart
you're longing for something to bring you home
for something to save you and hold you and
tell you that everything's going to be okay
but nothing's okay
nothing's okay about the way your chest aches
or the way your bones are brittle and weak
because you haven't slept properly in months
and you haven't uttered a syllable for even longer
you keep pretending that it's alright
but you don't have anything to keep you sane
you're drowning in your own horror
and you know you should stop it
you know you should get up and swim,
just get the fuck up and swim,
but it's not as easy as it sounds
(because you've tried, my god how you've tried)
but nothing's going to get better
because you don't want it to get better
you're sick and twisted and cynical and
if you get better you don't know what's going to happen to your heart
everything that's making you 'you' will disappear and
there will be nothing but a dull void
a bitter emptiness that'll suck the heat right out of your body
leaving you cold and broken and ashamed
because you should get better, but you can't get better
you can't get better and it's eating you alive
clawing at your insides and ripping at your skin
it's sizzling,
a slow, painful gnawing just below the surface and you're terrified
positively horrified
that it's going to bubble to the surface one day
and you're going to be left
empty.