I am unhappy*,
This thought, this emotion, tears through my being like an angry wind leaving despair and destruction in its wake.
It feels as if I'm merely floating in places, day in and day out, with the simple,
itchy realization that nothing matters.
Nothing can make me feel.
I've bottled all dreams, wishes, desires, and hopes into tiny little cans to be passed out,
sold for the highest price;
Leaving me empty, but not quite...
There's still an awareness I hold of the desolate
heart I own.
And there isn't anything more agonizing than that.