Shell

I really lost my heart.
And this time I can't find it.
I call for it,
I look for it.
It is nowhere.
All that leads me, is my mind.
All I hear is my mind,
So I listen.

It could be up to me to change.
But instead, I sit here waiting..
Because it always feels like there is something that is going to happen.
Something, an awakening, anything.
Nothing ever happens. And the waiting will not. ever. stop.
Right?

So do I force myself up out the door and try to find sanity
within the crowds and routine lived by others?
Creating the same thing for myself...?

I am looking for my heart,
because I have blocked off everything I can feel.

And I can't feel.
So, I don't know
What I care about.

I try to dig that knife into my skin,
Into my wrists.
Just so that I can feel SOMETHING.

And I wake up to examine the marks I left.
I need to know that I am real. I need to feel it.
But instead.
I am just dead.
I am just...empty.

Just a shell.