Can't understand this feeling
Not empty.
For to be empty,
there must be something there first.
I am hollow
a hollowed out log.
The rot of despair grows
and with it,
my emotions die.
A slow and cancerous death,
that I sense,
there within myself.
I live only to exist.
I have lost
my ability to be.
I am no longer a wife,
a helpmate.
I now take up space.
Enter not society.
Do not ask,
what it is I want.
For that, no one needs to know.
No one cares.
I can't even cry.