Empty Places

 My head is empty and that makes it a very loud place. There’s nothing to soften the blow, nothing to contain the echos. And it’s empty and it’s all my fault. Because I didn’t want to let it in, any of it. I wanted to be numb and empty and not have to feel. And now I pay the price. 


It’s not so steep, I’ve payed it many times over. At this point I’ve over payed for the next century. I could go on paying the same price till the day I die because I simply know little else to do. But I know there’s more. 


I know there places far more beautiful than this sad empty place that I know better than to stay. It’s the choosing to leave that nails my feet to the floor. It’s the potential fallout that keeps my feet firmly stuck in the same place. Knowing that that could be the very thing that causes the end of the world. My world. And maybe it need to end again so it may be remade. 


But I’m weak and full of doubt. That there could be anything more to this life than just surviving. When I know so much more than I’ll ever realize, I still have to fight to find the courage to make a better choice, to make a healthier choice. 


Because not feeling, not really thinking, doesn't lead anywhere good. It just leads you down the road to the end of yourself. Where you don’t need to be for long. Don’t unpack and live there my mom used to say to me. 


I’ve been living half a step in this grey oblivion for much too long and I didn’t know. It’s tricky and full of traps, lured me in with promises of stability and sanity. And now I know. I’ve done it again, fallen for the same tired old trick. 


I stoped telling myself lies and started telling myself hopeful dreams. It’s a long way off yet and I’ll get there eventually, but I will get there. It’ll just take some time. Because change, real change that sticks, take way longer than I want it to. But I will get there.

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