Vacancy

A poem of being empty.

I look into the mirror.
And all I see is a vacant shell.
My life seems to be the sprawling ship of disaster.
What am I doing here? What am I achieving? What did I do to you? Why are you leaving?
My tears are hard water
My eye sockets are numb with the pain

I seem to know the answers, but I can't understand why you..
Even now, a tear drips.
There is no one to wipe it from my eyes.
 The buckwheat noodle of my soul is dried out, the restaurant no longer has a use for it.
When did I become this way? Why didn't you stay?
The innocent fang of blood and life driven into the flesh and snapping the skin feels like release;
As I stare at the sink, water cascading from my nasal.
I've become vacant;
I have no control anymore.
My one-shot was wasted...
One-shot waste me.

I'll keep on striving for the comfort of love, peace, security.
Until then, this empty shell will drift alone in the sea.
Forever wallowing in self-pity.
You probably wouldn't understand.
Slit the skin and release my oil into the water.
Dance with the angels and demons within the confides of my depression.
Forever decline me and my shell.
My empty tendencies
My vacancy.

Reviews

[hcarson]

working through your poems, another well done :)