You're so good at words, but I know they're actually empty.
I can hear them echo.
I can't be hallow anymore.
When you speak I feel nothing - each word another spadeful you take from my heart's capacity to love.
I want to fall into the great fabric of the world
   and feel the universe slip through my fingers
   winds that merge my colours with those outside of me
Every atom screams out the need to feel to feel
My soul is a constant vibration
Why can no one see it?
When you tell me about myself I feel like I am actively unlearning who I really am.
You rose tinted glasses soften all of my edges
   and I feel it like sandpaper
   trying to make me less spiky
I feel ready to be pulled apart
My limbs are screaming to be set free
My fingers are edging over the great divide, finding their grip.