[empty space]

i don’t know who i am without this melancholy anchoring my ship to the ground

maybe i’m scared that i’ll float away

but surely that has to be better than sinking, is it not?

there’s so much empty space in my chest,

i suppose it’s the room for love.

but why doesn’t anything fill it up? why does it have holes?

there’s so much empty space in my chest

what was once occupied by anger and hate has now turned into indifference

indifference fills this space,

inflates the balloon i carry on my head called ego

it’s not that i don’t care, i just don’t want people to see how much i care because i’m scared that they’ll run away,

i’m scared that i’ll run away.

there’s so much empty space in my chest

i suppose it’s for the air to fill me up, and just like them, leave me empty

dependent on it.

i cannot be independent from it, at least not if i want to survive.

but what’s the point of survival when i want to live?

why must i survive in order to live?