#indigoheartorriginal

I am feeling that sadness again. The empty pit that I am grasping at arms to avoid falling into. I don't mean to be needy, I don't mean to be annoying. I just need you to save me, if only for the night.

I have been Charbidus, a vacant, vapid, gaping hole to swallow men whole.

I have been Scylla, picking men off at random once they are close, without preference or pattern.

I have been the Monsoon, swelling high beyond the height of any man until the waves come crashing down, leaving only the debris of what once was as it creeps away again.

I have tried to disguise the pit with false perfection that never fit quite right. 

I have tried to cough it up, inhaling smoke until my lungs rattled and my throat burned.

I tried to drown it out with alcohol and small talk with strangers.

I have tried to fill it with food, seeking satiation for the gnawing in my gut.

I tried to punish the pain, but the scars could not subdue it.

An imbalance of bile and blood they say

Just take this...

And this

And this

And all your pains will go away.

I swallow them all with a tall glass of teary apologies and try to be "better".

But the loneliness hasn't changed.