Lying Empty

Lying, empty.
Sad, with and without reason.
Wishing for it to end.
The struggle,
My emptiness,

Trying but always crushed,
Crushed at a turn.
Flogging myself onward,
Wanting to collapse,
And why,
Why.

Lying here empty.
Wanting a 2am walk,
Alone, the depth of darkness.
To feel, to not be alone, while alone.
The only person in this world.
Painful existence.

Desiring a walk,
No matter what tomorrow brings,
Nevermind it all.
I want to walk,
Find a place,
To sit, to stay.
To wait, and try to feel.


Writing this, feeling a bit sad, a bit empty, I don’t know why, but I also do. But even then I don’t know why. Just feel hurt, hurt because I can feel, wanting not to. But I’ve been there before, the choice.

The choice to feel, and always be in constant pain or a lack of feeling and to be empty, then in pain because of the emptiness and then always in pain.

Two choices, a summary of life, a single outcome. Went to counselling a little while ago. Didn’t help in the slightest, everything that happened, was said, I knew already. To be honest was a total waste of time. It’s like being told 2+2 is 4 when you’re in your twenties. Totally obvious and only demonstrated my worst fears to be true.

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