lunar sadness // poetry of the insomniac

empty

whenever anyone asks me how i feel

i can almost never muster up the words to describe it

sad is an understatement, alone is too cliché

the best way to describe myself is empty

i'm hollow, like the wind could whisper through me with ease

i'm numb, i've lost the ability to feel what's real

i'm starved, waiting for myself to simply perish

i'm abandoned, wandering lost in the night wishing for a hand to hold

i am empty, the product of what was forgotten