There is an emptiness and yearning in me that has been present so long it is indiscernible from “me”,

A heart made of shards that I’ve torn apart, begging and yearning for love which I refuse.

Empty and empty, emptier each day, pouring myself out bit by bit.

Humanity a curse rather than a blessing.

Was I always this way? What made me?

There is a monster I see in the mirror, a monster playing pretend, playing at normal, at mundane,

Wanted by one, wanted by many, unloved by one, unloved by all. Forever unknown.

A cage of my own creation.

Cold seeping into my bones, bury the warmth away, it’s better this way.

Skin of steel, unyielding, straining at the seams, the flesh beneath supple and weak.

Cold and harsh and frivolous and cruel, slashing away those who hold me dear,

In a perfect world maybe I would have been better,

Hoisting the reigns without refrain, simply just me,

But the summer came and burned the soul and I had to freeze to preserve it,

But what’s left of a soul remains that never grew?

What’s left of me?

Would it have survived if I hadn’t shut the world away?

Shut my soul away?

Maybe this is all that’s left of me.