a hole

I wake up and stare at the ceiling. It spins. I turn to face the wall. It spins. I bury my face in my pillow and take in the smell. It smells familiar. I try to figure out where I am but I know that I already know. I wish I didn’t have to wake up because it doesn’t help. I tried to sleep again but I know that that’s impossible. To begin with, sleeping is impossible. I turn my back from the wall to face the other wall. I stifle the tears that I know are coming. I see something that I hold dear. There is nowhere I can turn to make me feel any better.

My heart hurts. My head pounds. My throat is dry from all the tears I have cried. There is nowhere I can turn to, to make me feel any better. I cannot sleep, lie down nor stand. My tummy burns although I have forced food down my throat. Everything hurts. Everything. My tear ducts are always full. I tell them to stop. They don’t listen. I pull my hair but it doesn’t take the headache away. I slap myself for crying but that makes me cry more. Then, I slap myself again just to feel some pain.

It is beyond my comprehension. I just need to understand. I want to understand. That hole is gaping and it bleeds. And bleeds and bleeds.

I have no right to deny the well-deserved space and time anyone needs for themselves. Have I been selfish? Have I failed to see what I was supposed to see? I see a hole... in that place we all call a heart...