Underneath

Scared. Empty. Hollow. So scared to let people see how hollow I am, a hollowed out hole with no end. My stomach curls into nothingness. Underneath I'm tabula rasa, a blank slate, a pit without the pendulum. I shiver in the cold, due to a lack of clothing, a lack of warmth, a lack of anything to hide behind. Underneath I'm naked, but of course. Frozen solid. I don't even have a heart, underneath, no bright red apple to bite into, no juicy flesh to run down my lips. I am the cold, grey world, the bare trees and empty stars. I am the lack of light, the blur between good and bad, the idea upon your tongue that you cannot find a word for. I am the abstract. Your skinny wrists mingled with golden claws, carrying you off. I am the unknown, what you do not know, where you do not know you're going. I am going. I am scared and blindfolded, going with my arms out and eyes closed. I am holding my breath without realizing it. Unable to breathe. Scared. Empty. Hollow.
Underneath.