There's Nothing Here
There’s nothing here,
a hollow tear.
A memory of used to be,
I’m unsure of what is me.
I wonder if it’s all a lie,
Is my consciousness a spy?
Am I this emptiness that lingers?
Am I these hands and stubby fingers?
So often now do these eyes flood.
Are they my tears? Is this my blood?
So what is it that haunts my shell?
Is it me? I cannot tell.
Or is this flesh the parasite?
A leach on me to block the light.
Is it just to cause me pain?
Or a source of life long drain.
Is it me that’s carrying it?
And I’m I meant to keep it fit?
I don’t feel like I’m a part,
They’re not my bones, it’s not my heart.
I know that it’s what they all see,
To them it’s Claire - to them it’s me.
And I long for just to feel the same,
But nothings there, no joy, no pain
So tell me please, what makes it mine?
I have not paid a single dime.
Are these scars a currency?
Or just another part of me?
And if they’re mine, why can’t I sell?
Please don’t wonder, please don’t dwell,
I show you what you need to know,
Cos if you knew you’d surely to go.
You didn’t help me when I fell,
Cos you don’t see this part as well.
I don’t want you to feel all this,
So carry on unknowing bliss.
Be satisfied, the smile you see.
(I’m still unsure if that is me)
Claire |
