Emptiness and loneliness echo inside me
Passionate kisses and groping do not fill the spaces
A hollowness wells up inside me
Nights are only shared with useless thought
In my mind I could save the world
Armed with pen and passion
With poems and kisses
But none of that touches me
I only pretend the scars are no longer hurting
I have only pushed them deeper down inside
Pen in hand
Black ink on blue lined spiril bound pages
The written word can only release me
But it does nothing to fill the void
No longer can I even call upon the past
There are no more hopes of fixing things lost
Only pictures of lost faces
With lost dreams still burning in their eyes
My hopelessness weights me down
Like Ophilia I wait with weriness to be pulled down
All I can do is wait
Death has only spit me out each time I seek it
It is not my time
Will I remain empty and hollow till then?
If not how long must I wait for something to fill me?
Where in life will I find new meaning?
Where and When
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