I have become as
.....h o l l o w
.......as the bottles I drink
...............numb
.......as my cold fingers
e m p t y
..................as the inbox in my phone
.....disoriented
.............as how this poem is written

how much more naiveté
do i have to go be,
in order to realize?
because I know im hurting
yet I dont know how to explain the pain