Spiraling Conviction

By Amira Wells

Feeling empty without you, not knowing what to do.

I get this sense of loneliness; you're not in my space anymore.

My insides feel so melancholy, so hollow.

All flesh is nonexistent.

Things falling apart, bones breaking, trying to keep it together.

It’s like trying to hold wood with a feather; easily breaking.

I need strength, your strength.

I can’t do this by myself anymore; it hurts my bones too much.

Pain reaching to the depths of the center

Like a screw turned clockwise, deeper and deeper 

I need the release.

Unless you want me to continue feeling this.

If so, I can understand.

I caused the same hurt to you, maybe worse.

I can’t seem to deal with the guilt.

I finally get the release, but it’s not on you.

It’s with another.

Leading me to still feel empty without you, not knowing what to do, 

I get this sense of loneliness; you’re not in my space anymore.

There’s nothing left but my soul.

Bones broken.

Only consciousness exists.

Everything is everywhere.

Commotion is in play.

As fast as the current on a windy day.

Easily drifting, drifting away.

Until there’s nothing left.

The space is empty.

Both you and I are nonexistent.

You try and keep it together until you need to release, and it’s with another.

The cycle then continues.

The people are empty.

They drift away.

The space is nonexistent.

Feeling empty without you, not knowing what to do.

I get this sense of loneliness; you're not in my space anymore.

My insides feel so melancholy, so hollow.

All flesh is nonexistent.

Things falling apart, bones breaking, trying to keep it together.

It’s like trying to hold wood with a feather; easily breaking.

I need strength, your strength.

I can’t do this by myself anymore; it hurts my bones too much.

Pain reaching to the depths of the center

Like a screw turned clockwise, deeper and deeper 

I need the release.

Unless you want me to continue feeling this.

If so, I can understand.

I caused the same hurt to you, maybe worse.

I can’t seem to deal with the guilt.

I finally get the release, but it’s not on you.

It’s with another.

Leading me to still feel empty without you, not knowing what to do, 

I get this sense of loneliness; you’re not in my space anymore.

There’s nothing left but my soul.

Bones broken.

Only consciousness exists.

Everything is everywhere.

Commotion is in play.

As fast as the current on a windy day.

Easily drifting, drifting away.

Until there’s nothing left.

The space is empty.

Both you and I are nonexistent.

You try and keep it together until you need to release, and it’s with another.

The cycle then continues.

The people are empty.

They drift away.

The space is nonexistent.

By Amira Wells