Is happiness a feeling?
A filling?
Making space for something
that has no presence
no weight bearing

Raise balled fists high
and whisper
I am okay with this
I am content in this

i wants someone to like me
i want the care and affection that comes from love

i want to not feel alone
i want someone to be nice to me too

This is how I die
Not by poison, by blade, by bullet or by fault
No big exit, no trumpet, no serenade or fall
Just you, yourself, left ingrained in my veins
Your absence, your silence, is killing me again.