the sorrow
that knows
no depths, as
the hunger
that tastes
no food, as
the ache
that feels
no balm, as
the falling
that reaches
no bottom, leaving me
empty, except for
the tears
now washing me clean.
the sorrow
that knows
no depths, as
the hunger
that tastes
no food, as
the ache
that feels
no balm, as
the falling
that reaches
no bottom, leaving me
empty, except for
the tears
now washing me clean.