poem : Creating Hollow
Title: Creating Hollow
Author: Amie Barron
Date Written: 2006
Author's Note: Some people find this confusing, I think it's quite blatant. Open to interpretation, what did you get from it?
CREATING HOLLOW
If I scratched gently across your porcelain skin,
Would you flinch away from my cooling touch?
If I waved my bleeding wrists before your vacant eyes,
Could you bring yourself to look at me?
If I screamed your name from the bottom of my drying throat,
Would you turn away from the torturous sound?
If I threatened to walk away and leave you where you laid,
Could you stand and beg me to stay?
If I fell to my knees and spilled tears into the already growing pool of vomit laced with blood,
Would you tell me I’m disgusting?
Tell me I'm twisted, tell me I'm beautiful, tell me to go, tell me to stay.
Just tell me something.
Anything.
I just need to hear your voice.
I need reassurance.
Reassurance that you're still here with me, that you haven't left quite yet.
But I know it inside, even though denial is overpowering my senses, I know that you're gone.
You're dead.
Empty.
But soon, we'll be together again.
Soon, I'll be just as hollow as you are.
Author: Amie Barron
Date Written: 2006
Author's Note: Some people find this confusing, I think it's quite blatant. Open to interpretation, what did you get from it?
CREATING HOLLOW
If I scratched gently across your porcelain skin,
Would you flinch away from my cooling touch?
If I waved my bleeding wrists before your vacant eyes,
Could you bring yourself to look at me?
If I screamed your name from the bottom of my drying throat,
Would you turn away from the torturous sound?
If I threatened to walk away and leave you where you laid,
Could you stand and beg me to stay?
If I fell to my knees and spilled tears into the already growing pool of vomit laced with blood,
Would you tell me I’m disgusting?
Tell me I'm twisted, tell me I'm beautiful, tell me to go, tell me to stay.
Just tell me something.
Anything.
I just need to hear your voice.
I need reassurance.
Reassurance that you're still here with me, that you haven't left quite yet.
But I know it inside, even though denial is overpowering my senses, I know that you're gone.
You're dead.
Empty.
But soon, we'll be together again.
Soon, I'll be just as hollow as you are.