There's a name for it you know,that empty feeling taking over you,breaking physical confines and releasing itself into the world.There's a certain feeling,an unpleasant tingling,like stubby needles growing in your skin.It's a private affair,a profecy fuffiled in silance-for you have pretty eyes they say,and tears would surely spoil them.Mother nature sent some rain tonight soat least,I may have the comfort to listen to the sound of tears.
I live with a reasonable doubt-that no light outshines the darkness and my eyes shall always be misleading.I will smile at you next morning and a frightening emptyness shall ooze from my lips.You'll think of kissing them and then we shall both be empty,empty and lost .