I dug a whole in me
just to see how
deep I can be

and the deeper i penetrate
into my immured bones
my reason for this foolish
probing emaciates

"I found out how shallow I really am"

all this insistence,
persistence on something
I tried so hard to become
had been a hurly burly fiasco
of sunken syllables washed out
by my already dried out lashes.

"Forgive me paper, for I have smeared
upon your inkless seclusion."

There is nothing.
I am empty.
Emptiness is nothing.

I am just a breakable surface.

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