It was the fear.
The fear that I wouldn't ever feel again.
The fear of when I lay my head on the pillow,
the feeling of nothingness would swallow me whole.
The fear that when I opened my eyes
I would have to bask in another daydream of nothing.
The fear that my heart would stop beating and my soul would dry up.
The fear that I would have to live in
this cracked casket I called my being.

It was the fear that I would awake to a broken compass and
yet another forgotten quest.
The fear that sleep has forgotten my name and awakening has become my lover.
The fear that this insomnia has become my best friend.

I do not feel better or worse, I just feel
nothing.
You waste your time with concerned comments and affection,
yet you forget that this shield of nothingness that surrounds me,
is only permeable to the unwanted and unuseful.
I see all my surroundings,
hear every whisper, laugh and cry,
taste every salt and spice,
yet my own hand still feels foreign against my face.

I wonder what anesthetic has slipped through my grasp?
but only then do I realize that this aura of nothingness, like a water-tight seal, sticks to me like another layer of skin, trapping me in this puppet which has long since  forgotten to frown.
That sparkle in my eye is not real happiness.
but the dams which stop the tears from flooding my cheek
in fear that they may carve canyons deeper than the secrets which birthed them.

It looks normal on the ouside,
I made sure of that.

But the inside.
the inside.

Have you ever felt your heart beat ice through your veins?.
Have you ever been repulsed by your own body?
Ever scared of what's in your own mind?
Have you ever feared looking into your own eyes?
Have you ever seen someone embrace you with that fake worried look?
Have you even felt scared to ask for help?
Have you ever felt more than the dumb
touch of
Nothing

-Sx

By now you would have noticed
The stains on my cheeks…
If you did happen to ask me
I would say,
“It wasn’t me, honestly.
It was the rain,
No really, I just yawned.
Me? Cry?
Why I would never.”

You probably would’ve also noticed,
The bruises scattered all over me.
If you asked,
You would know my standard reply.
“Oh, I fell.
Silly old me can’t even balance myself.
Oh these?
Don’t worry about it.
I’ll be fine.
Aren’t I always?”

If you listen really closely,
here’s what you won’t miss.
“These bruises came from his beat.
The tears…
From my own.
But don’t worry your pretty little head about me.
No one ever does.
Please just leave me alone.”