Going crazy.
There's an empty space inside of me that I forget about sometimes. Usually when I'm with other people. But as soon as I'm alone again, and I find myself standing in the middle of my room, staring and seeing nothing, not sure what to do or where to go, I remember that it's there. Because I can feel it, deep down, eating away at me; eating away at my core, little by little. And I'm pretty sure I'm going crazy, somewhere in there, and the only way to avoid it is to ignore it. I can't fix it right now, it needs time before it will go away. But it hurts, and I'm tired. I'm tired, and it hurts.