Eyes focused down on the ground,

walking around with no heart in my chest.

I don’t feel much like me anymore,

a shell of a woman possessed.


I write what I feel to get it all out,

still that lingering loneliness remains.

Does anyone hear that hollowing sound,

or am I slowly going insane?


I wear my heart. on my sleeve as an offering to most,

take it, use it however you please.

It serves as a great protector,

for everyone else, but me.


I suppose it’s payback somehow

for the times I carelessly abused it.

I never listened, never gave it a thought

and now it doesn’t give a shit about me


You get used to it, this hollowness

the best that the. Dr prescribes

In fact, some days it feels normal

enjoy with dinner-and diatribes




Telling stories my heart needs to tell

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A Certain Shadow

24 Sep. 2020 — Me and Weird world


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Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Kelli Sheckler-Amsden

Telling stories my heart needs to tell

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