Pink person is leaning forward as their right hand holds onto the back of their hair - long, blue and in a half up-do. They are wearing a green top with neon yellow nails.

There is this overwhelming feeling of sadness

That wells up in my chest

And claws frantically at the throat.

This shadowing feeling of hollowness,

This overwhelming feeling of lonesomely calling,

Between wanting to say the words that cannot be said,

And the words that shouldn’t be said,

Then the words that I wanted to say,

Actually, in the end

Nothing is said.

There will come days 

Blue person leaning their forehead into their hands. They have short, blonde hair and is wearing a pink top.

There will come days where waking becomes difficult.

Sleep comes only after the lonely sun has risen,

Behind the midst of clouds.

There will come days where breathing is painful.

Alone, alone, listening to the sound of emptiness,

The breaking sound of your heart.

And there will also come days where living becomes long.

Seconds into minutes, hours into days,

Time that continues moving,

As our memories fade.