Inside me, all day, an emptiness that upsets me
Inside me, all day, is a hollow void, a heaviness which cannot be seen. Not like sorrow knocking at the door, but this seeped silently into my thoughts, affecting mine, and my people, and quiet. It’s not so much sadness or loneliness; it’s much deeper and disturbing, an ache nags my mind.
It is not about nothing, though, it can be the presence of something with no meaning. You walk, you smile, you work, you talk, yet you are part of it all yet somehow removed from it. It is like a missing link or an abyss between who you are and who you should be. It lingers, whispering there’s something more you should be, something more you should feel, but it refuses to reveal what.
Some days I try to fill it with people, tasks, or distractions. No matter how much I add, the emptiness remains. And the worst part? Maybe, just maybe, this void is part of me, something that will be there no matter what I do.
