A momentary yet carving feeling that never ceases to make me feel empty, those times when I could no longer empathize with myself. Lost in the nothingness of my chaos, it goes on and on. Circling, captivating frustrating at times. In life where everything could plunge and shatter, in the blink of an eye, within split seconds, with a word and all could just blow and explode.
I hold within me, a part of me. Who bleeds not with blood but silent chaos, who shed not a bucket of tears but rather a bucket of emptiness. I always say I am my chaos, my demon and my very own destruction. There were even times that despite wanting to live, I once wished to just vanish, be gone, be fleetingly invisible.
Having eyes on me while I weep, hearing words that aren’t comforting but rather excruciatingly seemingly unsympathetic. I get to realize just how shallow the world is becoming. I learned to wear a mask which my soul has grown to like and get the comfort it needs.
While I make everyone happy, I am becoming more and more sadder than I already have. Giving my everything may have contributed to other people’s existence, whilst to mind it deteriorates my own. The fact is, I’m tired of filling in for everyone while I still have to manage to refill myself. I get empty, all the more reason that I get to feel that somehow, despite my hunger and thirst for the same amount of affection, I get nothing in return.
There, I sit in the corner all by myself with the thought in my head…I am a rain that never falls. I wanted to hear my howl, wipe my tears and feel my pain. But, I just can’t feel anything. Indeed, I AM BUT A RAIN THAT NEVER FALLS….
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