There’s a part of me that I don’t know,
Where secrets hide and troubles grow,
Beyond the reach of woken mind,
Beyond my conscious thoughts inside,

Always there but ever-changing,
Growing stronger, as I’m ageing,
A part of me I can’t control,
An anti-matter, aching hole,

I see it in my mirrored eyes,
My calendar, my health, my lies,
I tell my family I’m fine,
But I feel it heavy all the time,

I can’t imagine from what it grew,
A better life, I never knew,
My friends and family, so strong and true,
Self-indulgent, pathetic, to still feel blue,

I keep it locked behind heart tissue walls,
Yet in various symptoms, sinister it crawls,
Across my skin, my sleep, my sight,
It toys with my mind long into the night,

An apathy for life itself,
There is no point, why care for myself?
Why work and clean and get out of bed,
When the world is cold and dead?