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.