There is this hollow,
that begins at the shoulders,
curves around to the thighs,
pitted with the sweat and tears,
of another jilted lover.

The chip on my shoulder
is one I make sure
stays firmly in place
tears render my will pulpy.
Bitter me,
you're everything I want to be.

Everyday, an epiphany
another level to adjust to.
This hollow,filled with smoke and sex
bright lights, hazy nights,
shock value held in high esteem.

All the poems I wish I'd written
all the songs I want to sing
cling to the hollow
of my own sadness
my own insistence

it's everyone ELSE'S fault
my peristence in believing
everyone else is wrong.
And you told me I'm about to snap
so how much longer

until I hit that rock bottom
until it doesn't matter which way I go
cause from the middle
every way is up...

Insecurity is my disease
and sadness is my shield
I told you,
I told you how I feel
and I'm falling, falling still.

No light, no end, only
empty air, hollowness between
my the rest of the world, and me.
You're everything
I'll never be.

(c) 2000 by (++Laura++). All rights reserved.

My Subliminal Guide To Insanity: