Tragedy

Empty. Just empty.

Love me, I’m tragic.

Hold me, I’m fragile.

What is there to hold onto anymore?

My inner desires are buried deep in a mass of weeds and dandelions.

What I’ve always known is right along with them, intertwined with the roots.

I’m searching, searching for something that I cannot find.

I’ve searched under the sea, across the plains, through time and I cannot find it.

It’s lost in the darkness of my bedroom before I close my eyes.

Like an atom it appears in front of me and in a mili-second is gone.

It wont let me have a flicker of feeling. It took away all feeling from my bones.

I shiver because its so cold inside of this body that lay alone, with nothing to hold onto. When I leave, what will become of this place? Will it rot to the ground? Will it fall apart? Will it build itself up to be the most beautiful?

Get me out.

I am empty. I am searching.