I have built walls to keep them away
but I kept myself away from the parts of me that make me who I am.
There is an abyss and shards of glass separating me from
my notebooks, my creativity and my smile.
I am left in this world empty,
a shell of what I could’ve been.
A person that had went through the type of death
that leaves you in the land of the living
wishing you were never even born.
I am the embodiment of empty pages,
dried out pens,
broken guitar strings,