Poem on EMPTINESS

The night feels empty,
Stocks of lonely over-piling,
like the dirty clothes
kept for laundry. My head feels weak,
I smell so tipsy. The thoughts
are heavy, and come uninvited;
make pacts with crystals of emptiness.
They frown at me, throwing pity smiles.
They giggle hard, like rude bastards.
I look at them, dismayed and captivated;
it feels strange so; the world says
the room is crowded,
yet emptiness scatters like
wine from a broken glass.
I grab the pen,  the glass shines beside;
the last log in the drowning flow.
The alphabets gets mixed,
the words sound gibberish.
They sound so high!
I think my pen bleeds!
My head bangs hard
in the empty broken wall;
They still giggle
while I lie blood stained.
Emptiness, my tongue assumes.
                      - aditi