Empty

Empty.

Vessel of self.

Too busy filling everyone's tea cup

You let your well run dry.

Linked up in the seams

Of anxiety and withered dreams

Falsetto screams

Only heard after the cup clinks

Now sink...

Sunken place

Sunken ship

Drunken shit .. stupor

Fake laughs and humor

To hide the shell you're becoming

Knock knock 2012 come in

Darkness rips

At my lips and fingertips

And overwhelms my inner self

Until!!!!

Clink

I'm back.

I'm fine.

Another week will go by of simple grace

And utter glee.

Fulfilled by light and jubilee

Until our next arrangement

Or gathering maybe

Of tea with the ole lady...