Empty
When I feel the sunlight passing through me,
reflecting off the cracking bones
Breaking whatever remains of me,
I feel empty.
When the wind whistles through my insides,
crumbling me into tiny specks of dust
some of it blown away, some shifts,
but stays.
Always stays.
I feel empty.
When i look in the mirror and see
an aching lump of working organs
Dry eyed…smiling
That keeps repeating the same thing
over and over again
Trying to see things that are real
Hoping to believe words that are true.
I feel empty.
But then I look around
And notice
How these things are no more real than those that aren’t
How even huge thunderstorms go unnoticed
How some clouds of dust
are enough to bury centuries of existence
How people, feelings, truth go
unheard.. unknown.. forgotten.
That is when I realise,
Even the outside is as empty as me.
