I am empty
I said
In not so many words
The veiled confessions dripping off his ears like candle wax
As the wick burns down
Filling the room with a palpable smokiness
That only I can sense

I am choking
I am crawling
I can feel my light fading

For I am a teacup
Sitting on a shelf
Dusty but decorated
My handle pointed towards the wall
Breakable
And uninspired

How I long to be filled with more than emptiness
To have him pour all of his being into my heart and mind
To have him look into my eyes and see more than himself
But each confession only serves to deepen the loneliness
As a search for a soul to listen through the words