An Open Book

There is a hole in me where I can feel but not touch where it gapes but is never filled
It’s a heart-shaped hole in me
Sometimes the empty hole creeps wider when I'm not looking
it begs to be spilled out where it would consume everything
I know it’s ugly I know people shouldn’t see it. But it plages me

I want to go on an adventure.
I want to find someone that takes my breath away.
But would that fill my hole? Would it fill my empty heart?
I am waiting for someone to fill in all of the empty space

I falter when I want to talk about it
I am ever-steady when I talk about meaningless things
I turn before anyone can see past the reflection of themselves they see
I want to talk but it’s like my voice has fallen down the hole in me

I am an open book but no one cares to read the ugly parts of me