Emptiness

My feelings towards my tactic of blocking the bad memories I own.

Emptiness owns more than one breed,
shifting forms, even into anger and rage.
Mine sleeps inside of me,
a comforting friend.
A murderous parasite.
A deadly lover.

It lures me with promises of acceptance.
Of love.
Of beauty.
I run to it, hope flowing from me like blood,
only to find that its name rang true.
All it ever was, is emptiness.
It is all I ever was.

I am empty.