empty words.

And the shapes have come to being
they contort and wind and cease.
They're silence keeps me up
empty sound is so piercing so...
chilling.

I can't grasp a handle
my fingers are useless, purposeless.
They cannot open up and just touch
and let the emotion bind them to the
object.

I've lost the desire to emit
any sort of real, true, sadness.
Because if I let it all in and out,
it will crash and strike me like a
storm.

If a drain could suck it up
and hide from me in grime.
It will only come back
come back thicker and swirling, just like a
current.

Give me a reason for anything
and I'll give you a counterfeit.
give me to a reason to see through it all
and I'll reveal to you my
blindness.

It's much too late
it's been soaking too long,
and it sucks up my memories with it.
But I stumbled upon it and wrung it out like a
cloth.

And the regrets came back like re-broken bones.