apoptopic

inexplicable.
the heavy empty creeps back in
devouring keenly
eyes taking everything
un-listening.

for the longest time
i thought silence was gold
until i learnt
aloof
meant to be adored

so i adorned myself with empty things
surrounded myself with empty beings
and learnt that haunted houses
were nothing more
than empty buildings.

still the heaviness creeps
sinking
bone deep
stinging
and i understand solitude

more than beginnings
some form of genesis
unravelled
unbridled
befuddled

he sang the words i needed
some form of entitlements
bestowed
and i realized more than ever
the emptiness beckoned.

there was a might could
should've been
but i am an empty thing
ejecting
escaping.

running away because my feet
know me better than my brain,
so i leave
Before
always better

some form of yesterday
present
but never quite reachable
in the moment
but never forever.