and at which
point
did I start to
feel;
at which point was there a
Hollow feeling; rather yet, an empty feeling in my chest?

every word. emotions. thoughts.

began at a space,
where I felt nothing

like a statue; with no face

like a den; with no animals to defend it

like a building; that was never filled,

no workers,
no cubicles,
no white boards with markers
no "typical" days

no constant loud foot steps of angry bosses,

no phones ringing,
no pagers beeping,
and
no heads thinking,

just

an empty shell,
a hollow bullet

enough to puncture; but not enough to kill

enough to hurt, but not enough for others to care

the
cycle
is never ending

consistent depression

mindlessly wondering

like staring at the ceiling for hours,
when you know you have to sleep
when you know you have work

but yet you keep stareing

an empty mind,
yet
somehow replaying,
and replaying every wrong you've done
...