Hollow

Hollow.

it’s a sickening feeling.
like there’s nothing in you heart.
a dead heart.
it’s a lonely feeling.
like there’s nothing in your life.
nothing to wish for, nothing to look forward to.
you want to cry.
you want to feel the tears running down your face.
you want to sob, feel like there’s not enough air to fill your lungs,
anguish racking your body.
it’s a frustrating feeling.
because you know that crying will make it feel better.
but you can’t.
it’s a feeling of despair.
of hate.
and pain and sadness, tearing at your soul, ripping it apart,
blocking out the brightness of the sun, of life.
a black heart, discolored with days of biting your tongue and averting everyone’s eyes.
a useless soul, lost its power with days spent drowning in sorrow.
and all you can do is think about what you did that was so wrong.
and hope for it to be over.
but you wake up the next day,
with dry eyes and a crying soul.
a silent, terrible scream.