this dead heart of mine is a heavy burden to carry.

I used to think maybe I wasn't meant to carry it alone

but every day that passes it seems more and more like a fact

I am not made to be happy. I am not made to love.

I am not made for anything. I am a tamed animal that's been left alone to waste away.

this hollowness I feel grows more every day. temporarily am I filled, but only to have it slip out of my cracked base.

i watch the wind through the trees and feel the brisk autumn air against my exposed flesh.

I feel nothing but meaningless inside.

Play with Me