I feel Hollow.
Barren.
Empty.

That hollowness erodes my body,
leaving a trail of decay.
Cracks crawl through my brittle bones,
shattering my skull,
fragmenting my thoughts.

A carmine-colored river floods into my caving lungs,
before dragging itself up my throat.
The metallic taste slowly overwhelms my mouth,
and seeps through my gapped teeth.
My glass smile falls and shatters.

Terror grips what was once my voice,
holding sound captive-
my call for help erased by despair.
Only strangled sobs exist.
I'm left choking on my own life force.

Each sob collects upon my face;
a veil of tears cover my broken visage.
Shrouding me from prying eyes that encompass judgemental gazes.

Without even seeing,
their stares spear my soul and blacken my heart.
The forgotten, grayed ash
smothers out all that remains.

My rotted husk: a void, a dismal skeleton.
A vast emptiness that nothing can fill.

Broken.
Decayed.
Hollow.

It's what I am.

He never got to come home—
or maybe he did,
but only as ash on a mantle,
a whisper in empty halls.

His laughter never found its way back,
his smile never crossed that threshold—
just the echo of memories
haunting every corner.

Photos line the walls,
one, two, three, four—
Father, Mother, Daughters—
but the count shifted somewhere along the way,
and we became three,
learning how to hold a space
he no longer filled.

We still set his side at the table,
his chair pulled close,
his side untouched,
clothes folded like time stopped in the closet,
everything still his—
a silent claim on a house that hasn’t been his
for eight years.

He left that home,
and came back in glass—
seven years ago.

So why does the house still belong to him?
Is it how we cope?
Or is it easier
than facing the empty other side?

I feel alone
in my own shell:
playing pretend,
with my smile laid out on a shelf.
I’ll study grinns until they fit my heart.
And they cover it with blinding light.
Because the darkness
became a treasure I shall only see.
I let no one grasp it,
no one touches my true self.
No wonder I feel alone
when I don’t let anyone see myself.

my mistakes i see
clearly good deeds are empty
why

Pull my tongue out of my mouth,                                                           ­           
                                                     ­                                                                 ­
  use a spoon & hollow me out,                                                             ­   
                                                             ­                                                       
  take off a chunk of my skin,                                                            ­              
                                                  ­                                                                 ­     
  it's okay, there's life within                                                           ­           
                                                     ­                                                             
Pluck my eyes from my face,                                                            ­                                                  
I don't want to see the human race,                                                    
                                                                ­                                              
remove my fingers from my hand,                                                      
                                                                ­                                                      
you don't need to understand                                                       ­                           
                                                                ­                                                 
 Cut my heart from my chest,                                                           ­                     
                                           ­                                                                 ­          
I guarantee I won't contest                                                          ­                        
                                        ­                                                                 ­         
Go ahead & pick my brain,                                                           ­         
                                                                ­                                                  
you will see nothing
remains,                                                         ­                     
                                                                ­                                                  
Go ahead, you will see,                                                             ­                   
                                             ­                                                                 ­    
you will find an empty me

When the drop is steep
And stomach needs filling
Not wanting to let you down
That feels unavoidable
Chasing affirmations for myself
Want to wake up earlier
Just tend to fall asleep late
Started to notice the flowers more
Maybe because they have blossomed
Doesn’t always feel like that
Winter dragging into spring
Autumn death apart from living
Feeling tired spiralling out of control
Back inside the same confines
You used to spend when you were young
Still very much the same kid
Just with a growing responsibility
Weighing heavy upon my chest
Armour which protects and limits
Trying to break the chains which jangle
Feet dragged walking the city streets
Wanting to say hello rather just rake the leaves
Go about my work in silent peace
Enjoying the solitude of the garden
Tired of not crying would like some tears
Weeping like a child loses its appeal
As you realise what you have to do
Need to take the initiative and start living
Make something of myself

I should've counted the days
When you were here 
Now I count every second
That you're not here

Don’t you ever
eat
out of tradition?
Like,
you are not hungry;
but not loaded either.
Your stomach is just
as numb as your heart.

But you still eat,
because food tastes good;
because they sat you down;
because you ought to;
because you’re used to the feeling.

Even when there is no joy
to the taste;
you eat.

Eat,
eat,
eat.

You did it so often
the action
must have lost all its meaning.

Semantic satiation.

Fading lines, a whispered plea,
Erasing myself, for all to see.
A gentle wash, a silent tear,
Dissolving slowly, year by year.

No angry shout, no sudden break,
Just fading colors, for goodness sake.
A muted echo, soft and low,
Where vibrant hues used to brightly glow.

The canvas blank, a pristine white,
Lost in shadows, out of sight.
A gradual leaving, soft and deep,
Secrets that I vow to keep.

No grand farewell, no final bow,
Just emptiness, and only now
I understand the silent art,
Of fading softly, setting apart.