The more my eyes open
the more my lips
are stapled shut.
To tear them
open would
only pour
pain and
nothing
would
stay.

But
outside
this world
I would be
able to tear
these so apart
and I can pour
out the illusion
that I am who is
filled with the soul.

But I remain opposed to
everything I wish to be.
To being filled past
belief that I can
be whole again
to tear these
apart. But I
cannot. I
am gone.
Empty.