Empty

Empty:

no metaphor can explain

the pain you feel inside

only pretend to hide

one day it might just wane

disappear out of sight

lost to night like a dream

remembering doesn't seem

worth the same old fight

promises made to break 

pinky swore by the day

never really goes your way

no longer want to wake

what can’t the guilt interrupt

don't want it to be fine

leaving crumbs behind

then sweeping them all up

want to spit it out

feel it on your tongue

reaching for the next rung

back to square one