Empty
I'm so empty these days. How is it that crises can leave one feeling so empty. I would weep for the spectre of the me that could have been, if I could feel. Then I do feel, ripples and waves of anger and agony, suppressed with force of will or bored into quiescence by continuous banality. Games are played on phones, TV watched and then sleep is slept and so on and on until... What? There has to be more. There is hope but that wears thin these days. I want the hope to be justified. I want... Peace. Serenity. Though I know it's too much to ask for.