I am not myself.
In silence,
In days past,
I become more aware of emptiness.
Every breath sends air whoosing through the hollow in me.
As if no heart beats there,
As if no bones make their home within.
I can't feel my own existence.
I've strayed too far from humanity,
I've forgotten I'm a part of it.
The hollow is beginning to tear
At what tattered shreds of soul remain.
Pulling them in,
Eating the rest of who I was.
