The empty is a dark cold void; absent of warmth and joy.
There is absolute nothingness. No future, no hope.
To make others around me comfortable, I put on a mask. The mask laughs with them, it smiles and jokes. But it's all fake, a lie.
So dead on the inside, and yet in so much pain.
Nothing I do will ever fill the empty.
No food or sex or possessions.
The empty will always be...
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