I sit alone in an empty room.
In an empty house.
Just walls and a roof.
This place is not a home.
Only grief lives here.
Despair lives here too.
Loneliness is always visiting.
I cry silently.
I hide my tears in my pillow.
I keep my screams inside my head.
No one needs to see.
No one needs to know.
No one understands.
I don't even understand.
How could anyone else?
How could they care anyway?
I don't want to feel this way any more.
Someone please take this all away.
I don't want to feel any more.
Numb me from the inside out.
I want to cut everything out.
Till I bleed it all out.
If this is where I'm going to live
   then I don't want to live.
If this is all there is for me.
I just don't want to live it at all.
I cannot continue any more.
Not here, not like this.
No way, no how.
The emptiness is filling me.



  1. Powerful words. I could have written this myself 29 months ago. I am grateful to God I am no longer living in "this house" and feel empty. Thanks. Take care.

  2. Sometimes life is excruciatingly unbearable, and others don't understand when we try to share. We implore, we coerce, we cry out in frustration, and then we retreat back into the "house of ourselves," back into alone-ness, and despair.

    Sometimes we don't realize that we're trying to share with the wrong people. Sometimes, the closest people around us can't or refuse to sympathize, and comfort us. Sometimes, we have to make new friends with those who are compassionate and empathetic.

    The greatest empathizer is Jesus Christ, who felt beforehand what we feel today. And only Jesus Christ knows exactly what we're feeling, to the very minute pinpoint of emotion. Only Jesus Christ can send to us the perfect empathizing friendships that we so desperately need, in order for us to feel healed, to feel normal, to feel a part of the world.

    This poem digs deep into the psyche of a sufferer. It touches the heart of all who have been there, and are there at this moment. It offers hope, in that to write what is felt, to form the words and put them on paper is part of healing. It is also a path to communing with Jesus, who died so that we can be free.


I'd love to know what you think of this poem.