Things to Fill a Hole
Which things can fill a hole? A gaping, endless, dark hole in the center of my being, controlling my life. A hole whose tangible function is only to spread loneliness throughout my body and leave me grasping for breath. Which things are able to fill such a hole? Pebbles. Stones. Boulders. Each one will be swallowed without a sound. Friendship. Without understanding the profound hurt, friends will only create echoes into the depthless pit. Love. The absence of love gave birth to this hole, so inevitably it must be restored to patch up the brokenness. Yet I helplessly reject everyone’s love — wallowing in this murky pool of loneliness and sinking because I clench my fists whenever someone reaches to pull me back into happiness — unwillingly waiting for my love, that one person, to return to me. Nothing can fill this hole. Nothing will fill this hole if my love does not return to me. But I still must try, even though I know it will be in vain, to fill the loss. Tears. They only intensify the hurt by slipping down the hole in an eternal torrent and reminding me of how endless the emptiness is. Death. The only way to end the blinding pain, deafening loneliness, and the seemingly only solution. But how could I be so selfish and weak as to take myself out of someone else’s life, who inevitably feels the same way I do? Strength. I must be strong, hiding my hurting and ignoring my hole until I am strong enough to live with the broken fragments. Strength is the only thing that can fill a hole.
Which things can fill a hole? A gaping, endless, dark hole in the center of my being, controlling my life. A hole whose tangible function is only to spread loneliness throughout my body and leave me grasping for breath. Which things are able to fill such a hole? Pebbles. Stones. Boulders. Each one will be swallowed without a sound. Friendship. Without understanding the profound hurt, friends will only create echoes into the depthless pit. Love. The absence of love gave birth to this hole, so inevitably it must be restored to patch up the brokenness. Yet I helplessly reject everyone’s love — wallowing in this murky pool of loneliness and sinking because I clench my fists whenever someone reaches to pull me back into happiness — unwillingly waiting for my love, that one person, to return to me. Nothing can fill this hole. Nothing will fill this hole if my love does not return to me. But I still must try, even though I know it will be in vain, to fill the loss. Tears. They only intensify the hurt by slipping down the hole in an eternal torrent and reminding me of how endless the emptiness is. Death. The only way to end the blinding pain, deafening loneliness, and the seemingly only solution. But how could I be so selfish and weak as to take myself out of someone else’s life, who inevitably feels the same way I do? Strength. I must be strong, hiding my hurting and ignoring my hole until I am strong enough to live with the broken fragments. Strength is the only thing that can fill a hole.