Hollow Man

​How long will my words echo in an empty hall?
How long will I sway to its melody alone?
How will silence swallow my cries?
How long will my essence seep from the cracks of my shattered shells? 

Oh how I long to be deafened by the screams
How I long to be drenched in their pain
To feel the passion of the tale; so eloquently crafted
To soak the page with tears of a depicted sorrow

​I yearn for the warmth of the lover’s flame
To be memorized by its dance
To be enchanted by its unscripted ballad
The uncontrollable churn of my soul to its mythic rhythm

To feel the surge from the heartfelt turning into a pound
The sensation of my chest tightening; the pause of that breathless gasp just before the pant
The anticipation of the splash from the bead forged in the embers of the moment
The feel of slickness on my palms, right as I turn the page to the next chapter of my life

To be filled with pride from your look of approval
To be filled with passion from the same eyes, but a different glance
To know love to the core, standing firm in its goodness, as well as un-wavered by its pain
To understand by knowing it, I will be the better for it

For any man experiencing these and so many more…
Of that man I am envious
To feel any of these things, in that instant I will cease being

The

Hollow Man