Hollow

Ah, it's happening again.

I lost touch with reality.

I dreamt of the moon, how she wiped my tears away and kissed my scars, despite everything I've said to her. Despite all the protests and cries of my monstrosity.

A creature as beautiful as you should not be bowing down to the filth of misery I call myself.

Some nights, everything feels alright. I don't feel whole, but it's alright. At least I am Feeling. At least I am Being.

The sadness comes and goes. I never paid him much mind. The emptiness stays. Wherever I go, whatever I do, she always stays. She refuses to leave me, she loves me far too much to abandon me. Fortunately for her, I've forgotten how to say no.

The earth lives within me. Liquid fire is my blood, and I bleed every time the Earth bleeds. Storms ravage through the seas of my mind, angry and seething with pure white rage. I can't hear my thoughts over the booming thunder. Flashes of lightning blind my judgment. I become powerless in the face of nature, gasping for breath when there's no air to breathe. Wave after wave crashes over me, pulling me down then yanking me up again. The water floods into my mouth, unstoppable, unwavering, and I am powerless.

It ends abruptly. I dreamt of the moon again. She reaches down to meet my eyes, and she tells me I have done enough. I can rest now. She'll take away the storms, the liquid fire, the hollow earth I keep within me.

"Your earth is dead," said the moon.

"I will take its place." And she did.

She did.