I'm a Man Who Is Empty Inside

A void that aches inside the chest,

A hunger that denies all rest,

Where silence echoes through the night

And turns the darkness cold and white.

A heart that reaches through the gloom,

Trapped inside an empty room,

Longing for a gentle touch,

To feel a warmth that means so much.

The world moves on beyond the glass,

While phantom shadows shift and pass,

Leaving just the quiet tear

Of wishing someone could be near.

Yet in the quiet, raw and bare,

Beneath the weight of deep despair,

A gentle breath begins to rise:

To hold the truth within my eyes,

To grant myself the grace to be,

And survive the quiet depth of me.

I'm a man who is empty inside,

Where silent, heavy currents glide.

A phantom hunger in the dark,

Searching for a single spark.

For months I fought the aching space,

And wore a mask to hide my face,

Ashamed to feel the deep degree

Of raw, starved vulnerability.

My nervous system burned with fear,

Desperate just for someone near—

A gentle touch, a steady hand,

A soul to see and understand.

The void remains, the ache is real,

But now I give myself to feel.

No longer fighting what I need,

Nor shaming how my heart can bleed.

I'm a man who is empty inside,

With nowhere left to run or hide,

Yet in this stillness, quiet, bare,

I choose to stay and meet myself there.