Left with nothing again, just myself which amounts to nothing. No stomach to punch, no intestines, no one to blame. An emptiness which hurts more than emptiness and I have to mend everything again, slowly, with care. My mother is long gone, her hugs unnecessary. I dream of a small house with two doors. I will smile only when I am ready and will not exit my room till you are gone. Trying amounts to nothing. All my layers are gone; no sun, no nothing. I wish I were ready for you and I am so scared you will also know I amount to nothing. I can make lists and oulifne priorities, but my stomach is empty and everything pierces through and comes out the other side. I could go to the cinema and then talk about it. But that amounts to nothing. I have to remind myself I am a person, otherwise I will cross the street and something bad may happen.