I'm tired of the ache that I feel,
An emptiness stretched across miles
Messily stored in my chest cavity
And it is hard to swallow meaning;
It is screaming in pitch dark,
It is grasping nothing but thin air,
It is all the colours of a bruise,
It is the anger in red,
It is the sadness in silence,
It is the unsettling of the ocean floor,
It is the tremors of my heart.
