i’m staring at this blank page again wondering what to write when the words lock themselves away and i am left with nothing but myself how lonely that is how e m p t y i am my fingers twitch as if to reach for something my feet itch to run towards a better life but every morning with the rise of the sun i don the same garb walk the same walk until i am drowning in the repetitiveness of it all until i wonder why i’m even here “there must be more to this life“ i think and watch everyone move on without me at a speed so great i am coughing up dust coughing up the lies i told myself so that i could remain a shriveled thing instead of swimming towards the light but the light hurts it blinds my eyes and pulls sobs from little nooks and crannies i thought were vacant