Empty.

Empty.
The words that ring in my head.
They beat at the consciousness;
That heavy nothing.
Its like a wool stuffed up in your soul,
Soaking up everything, nothing to behold.
That wide encompass of carcass.
A dead meat with no blood, no canvas.
Vacuum everywhere.
A ring of nothingness in my head.
I think to myself, ‘even if I bled’,
There’s nothing here,
Nothing said.
Its crazy how happy I feel.
In a bubble of rose screens, I think I’m free.
The perceptions are very warped.

They’re twisted, bad and very mad.
Empty, the language we speak.
We’re dead inside, we’ve hit our peak,
We live a half fulfilled life, nothing stick.
Literally, nothing stick.
I lay down there, empty to my core.

Nothing left, nothing gone.
I’m full to bursting, I’m full till im sore.
I’m full of nothing, I’m totally empty.
Empty, the cry of your soul.
Seeking validation, seeking love.
You won’t get it though; no-no-no.
If it hit you in the face,
You’ve got no space.
You’re very full.
Yet severely empty.