This hollow shell, inside
dwells something intangible,
that may be felt, excruciatingly.
For in this cavity,
there's no one else, nor
nothing else. Only, or
perhaps, this solitary state.
No air to breathe,
no bed of roses to lie upon,
neither a warmth to neutralize
the cold, and empty space
that fills the hollowness.

There's plenty of room to insert to,
and lots of something to be inserted.
May the heavens forbid them,
I won't mind. What matters truly,
at this point in time, is
to have something, or someone.
Than to actually have,
nothing and no one.

This hollow space, is
A battle, alone I had to win.
A longing, alone I had to withstand.