Surrounded by people yet oh, so alone
It took me a month, 12 days and three hours to notice the hole
in my stomach from when you told me I deserved it.
Why is your voice, then, the one thing I wish yelled it?
The sorry sound of apologies I'll never hear,
the ones I make up just to rid of that shatter I feel in my spine everytime
I remember what you said to me April first before the line went dead,
Hell bent on apologies I fabricate and decorate with words my peers love,
to reinstate a relationship I all but deconstructed on my own,
so why am I alone?
Every mistake, I would blame everything you'd take, and I would give more.

I still have a bruise on my knees from the night I hit the floor.
I'd give until I had nothing left,
I have nothing left.

I'm a thief. Good at deceiving,
convincing everyone around who cares
I'm in a good place.
God, am I happy.
Convincing them I'm losing weight by eating clean and not because I lose my ******* appetite every time I remember you never missed me,
I don't sleep.

Why did it take a month to feel this hole consume me?
I'm empty

I feel we all have this gaping hole inside of us.
Screaming out, waiting for its meaning to come alive,
Waiting for it to finally be fulfilled.
Like when you wish upon a star
You’re patient enough to wait to witness
The possible outcome.
 If there is one.
It is a never ending flame,
Begging for oxygen
Desiring to grow and expand,
To be sufficient, with something new.
Something different.
It eats at us again
… and again
And through life
We are left with that hole of nothing.
Preventing ourselves to fill it.  
Constantly, it tries to reach out to us
But we ignore the invitation
to dance with something
we know nothing of.
Only because
change is scary.
Change is something we pretend we are used to
But if we were all really used to it
By now,
That hole could have been filled.
Maybe it lacks the feeling of care
Or a feeling of love, or protection.
Or a feeling we know nothing of.
 A feeling that we have no experience dealing with.
A feeling we are scared to discover.
Is it really possible to patch up this hole with the other emotions we know?
The ones we have already accommodated to.
The ones we are comfortable with.
Maybe the hole is supposed to be filled with nothing.
As if the nothingness is supposed to feel like something.
It is the invisible feeling we pretend is a stranger.
But we all know the feeling of nothing.
The feeling of absolute emptiness.
The feeling that breaks the silence in your head to be recognized.
The loneliness that aches inside that little hole
Waiting for something to complete it again.