Now that you've left me
where am I supposed
to go.
The less of me there is
the more I feel at home.

So I build my house
on emptiness, the nothing
in my soul.
Chipping away the
pieces, and digging
my own hole.

There is a flight from deep
within, a rushing urge
to leave.
So I leave behind my
nothingness and rip my heart
from it's sleeve.