Empty spaces

I look at you
with all the love
in the world,
you look at me
as if I am
just another lover.

I don’t like empty spaces,
empty rooms or even boxes
for they scare me the most.

They seem scary and saddening, but most importantly they break my heart. It’s just so tragic to even look at them. It feels like they are nothing, no value, they just don’t matter even if their outside is shiny, decorated and too catchy that it fills your heart with curiosity to know what’s on the inside; when you finally do, it’s nothing. I was trying to tell you how I feel lately. I’m trying to explain how my heart feels when I’m with him. He lays his head on my lap too often, with thoughts of girl that he has been with before, asks for my hands tenderly but whispers her name when it comes to more. My chest is a graveyard you see, with thousands of expectations and promises buried like seeds, though I know they won’t bloom again like flowers of hope near a tombstone. Nevermind, so I was telling you about my love, he looks at me like I’m nothing. They say love is in your lover’s eyes, but what if I see nothing? Can their still be love hiding behind those curtains? It’s just… sad.

When you feel all the love in the world that it feels impossible to take it out from your chest. It’s like a drowning boat, no matter how much water you take out, it keeps occupying the unwanted spaces, it keeps on getting heavier, and there comes a time when you finally drown in your own sea of sadness. You suffocate your peace with your own hands for something that wasn’t anything. And when that love occupies every corner of your chest, you’re willing to drown, give up and sometimes… die.
—𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘶𝘭 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘮