Hollow

i am a crack in the doorframe,
broken, fissured, a darkness
that won't let light in

even though i'm shining a flashlight
into all my cracks and crevices,
the little dark places
that only i can feel.

won't you please just take me home
in a jar alone and
let me fly away in the backyard?
until i burn into nothing
again
as the daylight fades to grey.

&& sometimes i feel so alone,
even though i know that i'm not
and i won't be for a long time
if i can figure out how to
play my cards right
for once.

but tonight i wish i could turn the car around
and hide underneath fleece blankets
and leave everything the way it was
in the beginning

'cause maybe change isn't everything
i ever needed;
maybe backtracking and
never letting go is right,
at least for now.

the problem is that
there is a tiny moon-man jumping
through the craters in my heart,
landing on every soft spot
and digging in his heels
until i don't know what i feel
anymore.

all i am is hollow organs
and moth-eaten air pockets.