I am empty and beyond hollow. I am a cave in which monsters dwell to wallow. They fill me with sour melodies that make it hard to swallow anything that isn’t as sweet as your words of honey. You don’t speak them to me as often as you used to and I’m wondering if it had anything to do with me not meeting up to your expectations. I think of all the times doubt was seeded in me and I couldn’t break the limitations. Anything that wasn’t more than what you wanted wasn’t worth your timely expenses. I’m sorry I keep apologizing in my head for all the wrong reasons, but my insides are shriveling and I am shrinking to nothing like you forced me to succumb to be because I know my words will never mean as much to you as they once had and the only thing that is comforting in knowing that is finally being able to destroy the life I once felt the need to have. Everything I once did was to please you because I loved it when you were happy but I wanted you to be happy because of me which is incredibly selfish and I’m sorry that I couldn’t forget about myself long enough to help you find real joy in something that was everlasting. I wanted to give you music and pieces of writing that could relate to you so you would feel better about who you were instead of being so hateful. I wanted you to understand that. You made me feel more alive and for that I was grateful but now I feel just as dead as I go down in a spiral.