it still holds true.
the shower is my sanctuary.
Have you ever just needed to cry so bad, but you just couldnt?
tonight, she asked me "do you ever just feel empty... like there's somethign missing?" and i knew she was telling me that she dosent know if she wants to be with him anymore. and i knew that she had probably never known what it was like to feel empty the way i do. she has someone there. she has them waiting in line incase they ever break up. she's tall, thin beautiful.
and she asks me if i know what it's like to be empty. and all i can say is "you get used to it."
and you do. You get used to feeling hollow, pressed and stretched out like a baloon full of air, or lead. you learn to hide most of it, only let the fringes show, like the hem of a slip under a skirt when you sit down in a chair. you find ways to hide it.
I cry... in the shower. at night, when everyone is asleep and the radio is turned up so that i cant hear myself think. it's always the same: wash hair. condition hair. wash body, rinse conditioner, rest head on wall, close eyes, try not to let the weight of it all press in too much, sigh, open eyes, stare at the awkward bump on lower right abdomen... try to ignore the hurt behind it, stare at feet, stare at the hot water handle, debate turning the heat up, close eyes, ignore the pounding in your ears, take deep breaths, bite lip, sweep hair out of face, cry, try to breathe again.turn off water, step out of tub feeling dissorentated and alone, wrap towel around hair. wrap towel around body, turn off radio, stare at the floor, crawl into bed, and hope something changes tomorrow.
...but nothing ever does.
Have you ever just needed to cry so bad, but you just couldnt?
tonight, she asked me "do you ever just feel empty... like there's somethign missing?" and i knew she was telling me that she dosent know if she wants to be with him anymore. and i knew that she had probably never known what it was like to feel empty the way i do. she has someone there. she has them waiting in line incase they ever break up. she's tall, thin beautiful.
and she asks me if i know what it's like to be empty. and all i can say is "you get used to it."
and you do. You get used to feeling hollow, pressed and stretched out like a baloon full of air, or lead. you learn to hide most of it, only let the fringes show, like the hem of a slip under a skirt when you sit down in a chair. you find ways to hide it.
I cry... in the shower. at night, when everyone is asleep and the radio is turned up so that i cant hear myself think. it's always the same: wash hair. condition hair. wash body, rinse conditioner, rest head on wall, close eyes, try not to let the weight of it all press in too much, sigh, open eyes, stare at the awkward bump on lower right abdomen... try to ignore the hurt behind it, stare at feet, stare at the hot water handle, debate turning the heat up, close eyes, ignore the pounding in your ears, take deep breaths, bite lip, sweep hair out of face, cry, try to breathe again.turn off water, step out of tub feeling dissorentated and alone, wrap towel around hair. wrap towel around body, turn off radio, stare at the floor, crawl into bed, and hope something changes tomorrow.
...but nothing ever does.