Thank you always watching over me,
for holding me together when things fall apart,
even when you yourself are faltering
thank you for staying to hold me up.

I once called myself a black hole. And I really did believe in it. If I could swallow the universe whole and consume myself to nothingness in the process, I believe I could, I would.
If not for you.
You're my miracle, the light that filled the empty dark space.
Somehow you managed to turn the black hole inside out and transform it into a star.
If there's one thing I believe in, I believe in you.
So trust me, when I say I trust you.
I love you so very much.

I know how lucky I am.
but I can't help feeling this empty hole pushing outwards from inside, expanding from within me.
I can barely breath from its throbbing. It's feeding off me. Bit by bit, it's devouring me.
It hurts so much I have to hold on to my sides.
I'm falling apart.
Every step I take, every glance up, I'm telling me inside my head:
Please walk, please walk. Breathe. Smile.
But every action takes Herculean effort, every muscle aches to halt.
If I could sleep at night, perhaps It'll help just that little bit more.
But I can't.
Because every moment alone at night, my mind no longer belongs to me.
It wanders to places I'll rather not go.
Awake, I relive my nightmares.
Every short bit that I nod off from exhaustion shows on me, scars on my body, from agitated scratching in my sleep.
My unconscious is aiding the hole inside to emerge.
Thinning the barrier of my skin so it shows sooner.
Perhaps, just as well, to end the charade sooner.

But I don't want this.
I just want me to fill up and become whole again.