The hole

It is 11:18pm. I'm tired, but not of my body. It's more of a mind tired. Like a hole that seeps through me. It's almost like I feel nothing for anything. Like nothing has value, like my fear and sadness aren't big enough for me to carry. Like I'm buckling under the weight of it all. So the voices yell at me, and I play deaf, but for today I cry. This hole I speak to, this hole I carry, I feel like everyone carries one. Knowing I am not alone brings me little comfort. Sometimes I know not what I say or do, and it's ok. It's ok not because I say it, but because I am mortal, I know that its normal to feel as we all do. Sometimes I believe that truly in myself that I am not. Maybe the rejection I've surrounded myself all these years is due to the fact that I know so well we are not. Creating a facade for others to admire, and believe is beneath me, because we know they should not accept us, for who and what we are. It might be time to slink away from the shadows and be brought into the light. To tomorrow, and forever after, we shall see.