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| Photo by Aneta Ivanova |
She felt empty.
Empty like the space which
she supposed to call home.
She stared at people,
who
barely spared her any sideway glances.
Those people who disregard their core
purposes in her life.
She didn’t need them. Or did
she?
Blood was indeed thicker
than water;
thick enough for her to suffocate in it.
She felt empty.
Desperate for something to
fill her up,
she crawled in misery,
begging for attention and pity.
“Please, mom,” she begged. “Hug
me and listen to me.”
“Please, dad,” she pleaded. “Come
home and talk to me.”
But her words, fragile as
her spirit, were never heard.
She felt empty.
Nobody listened, nobody
cared.
So why would she care?
Unimportant, useless and
unfit,
she was born to be forgotten.
Her existence ceased to
others,
and slowly, it ceased to herself.
What’s the point of holding
on,
when there’s nothing for her fingers to even grasp onto?
She felt empty.
In this dark, filthy room,
under this unfamiliar body,
smelled like a mixture of sweat and cigarettes.
Concentrating on the pain
that tore her body apart,
it reminded her that she was still very much alive,
instead of the corpse that she thought she was.
Woke up with a heavy head,
she reached her hand to the side,
only to feel the remaining body warmth from
the stranger last night.
He left,
and left her with
the patch of harsh red
standing out from the messy, yellowing bed sheet.
She was full for a brief
night,
but was empty the morning next.
Falling back into the piles
of pillows,
she covered her eyes,
but didn’t manage to stop the tears from
sliding down her cheeks.
She felt empty.
Every single night, she went
off with a new stranger.
The one with the horrible tattoo,
the one with a crooked smile
and the one she had no recollection of
because she
was so intoxicated from countless bottles of alcohol.
They filled her up, but only
temporary.
So she had to find more of them.
Every single night, for a
brief moment,
she was not empty.
She felt empty.
Strangers could not satisfy
her empty heart.
She craved for more.
She wanted a warm embrace,
a
kiss on her forehead
and someone she could run to whenever she’s alone and
lonely.
She wanted a safe harbor for
her to quit her sails.
Was she too greedy for
having such a small wish?
She felt empty.
After months of sober and
solemn,
she felt empty.
Trapped, hurt and disgusted,
she decided it was time to let go.
Sold out everything she
owned,
she left the huge mansion
with picture-perfect family portraits behind
her.
With only money and her
shattered soul,
she left the place that broke her for an unknown destination.
With a candle-like desire,
hoping that she could mend herself,
and put her back whole.
She would find a new place,
where she would finally call home.
She felt empty.
In a new town,
with smiling
faces
and cheerful greetings from guileless folks,
she remained silent and
gloom.
The monsters inside of her
was taking over,
but with fingers pressing hard against her scalp,
she fiercely
told herself
she was strong enough to overcome this horrendous storm.
But the fear,
oh the fear
rooted deep inside her;
was she able to conquer it?
She felt empty.
The battle was slowly
breaking her down,
left her bleeding,
with raw wounds that could never be
heal in time.
Sweating in fear,
gasping
for air;
oh no, was she going to surrender?
She clenched her teeth,
with
courage slowly blossoming from her inner core;
she finally managed to get a hold
onto her resilience.
After of what seemed like an
eternity of inner combats,
at last she managed to get back the dominancy in
controlling herself,
with battle scars as evidences that she survived.
She cried with her whole
heart and soul,
bursting with pride and joy.
The past that haunted her
was nicely buried.
The monster inside of her
was finally dead.
She was not empty.
She was sated
as she tasted
happiness for the first time
in a very long time.
With occasional hellos and
goodbyes
from kind souls around her,
she finally found a place that embraced
her.
It was a sunny day when she
picked her grocery bag
and headed to the crowded marketplace.
Her dark hair flowed
seamlessly down her waist,
with wild flowers adorning her glowing frame.
Her
cheeks pink
and her dewy eyes sparkled like the brightest stars above.
Whilst she was handing the
note to her usual ice-cream vendor,
a gust of wind blew her money onto the
pavement.
Without a second thought,
she slightly pulled up her ankle-length dress and bent down,
but only to touch
the back of another hand.
The warmth from another’s
skin caught her by surprise.
She looked up,
only to fall deep into a pair of
deep, ocean blue eyes.
How odd, she thought, that a
color so cold could make her felt so warm.
He gave her a fond smile,
and
she returned a sheepish grin
which deepened her sweet dimples.
“Isaiah,” he handed back the
note to her. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
That was the moment where
she felt like she was home.
She was not empty.
She was full, and filled
with love.
Love from him, love from people around her,
and most importantly,
love from herself.
She had a family, she had a
home.
She had everything she
craved and longed for.
She was no longer empty.
