Twice

I feel like I must

Live some sort of

Hollow life stuck

In my hard shell

My tears don't spring

From a gentle fountain

But instead bubble

From runoff. 

Emotions won't come

To me unless it's 

Through the pixelated

Silver of the tv.

I'm made of cotton

No longer flesh and fat

But spun from the 

Dusty crop.

I can't force myself

To feel to feel to feel

All I can ever be is 

Fucking empty. 

Who the hell decided

To make me this way

So goddamn full of

Absolutely nothing