There's a hollow deep within me,
Slowly consuming my life,
All my energy it takes away,
But it's never satisfied.
When I wake up I ignore it,
Try to pretend that it's not real,
But every night when I close my eyes,
It's the only thing I feel.
I walk through each day like an empty shell,
stare out through lifeless eyes;
though they crinkle up with laughter
I am dying deep inside.
Sometimes when I am tired
and the daylight starts to fade,
I think I can see black swirls of ink
moving like eels beneath my skin.
Then I blink and they are gone.
But I swear that they were there.
And I still feel them inside of me
a mass of heavy air.
I am empty
I am broken
I am lost
and I'm alone.
I don't feel like I am living
I'm a dusty heap of bones.
Does the raven in it's nest still call
for companionship each day?
Oh the sound resonates within me
and it amplifies my pain.
The rain that fell; the leaves that fluttered
slowly to the ground that day
cannot have hope against the permanence
of damp decay.
I won't claim that I am fading,
that I'm fighting to survive,
for the darkness has consumed me,
I have let it swallow my mind.
And I know it sounds so sick to you
but I already feel so much better
now I can relax, I can allow
the numbness to seep in.
I am just an empty carcass.
I am just an empty shell.
I am nothing but a memory
of a stranger called Myself.
