To be hollow is sad. But atleast I'm alive.
I want to feel. So I cut myself just a little here and there. Places that could seem like honest accidents. I still feel nothing.
I wonder as I reflect deep into the endless abyss that is my core, if I even have the ability to feel. Sure I can feign happiness, excitement, sadness, anger (which comes easier than the whole other lot of them), disgust, interest and so on. But what bothers me is if love comes also as just a mirage as my other emotions. My attraction varies only to those which I cannot posses and I wonder if that is a defense mechanism to keep me away from the sad truth.
" SOPHIA,YOU'RE A LOVELESS CREATURE "
Only wanting it when I cannot have it and disconnecting immediately it is offered to me.
Maybe it's because deep down I know loving me is punishment for whoever yields such a likeness for me.
The only thing I find worthy of my love is water. It doesn't judge or try to change me or have to suffer. It has seen far worse and is capable of holding in all I can throw at it never once raging or losing its temper with my excesses. It calms me and let's me know that I am enough for it just as I am. Not too much. Just enough. And I find solace in its warm embrace. It envelopes me and I feel no more emptiness but just peace. Serenity and whole.
