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  • Candace Nola

Empty Space




There are times like now that I just want to succumb, to the sobs in my soul that just never come. The pain in my chest that crushes my heart, that spreads dark tendrils to the depths of my psyche. That fractured place that never felt like me, as if I came into the world already broken and unsightly.


A constant search for my quiet nirvana, an inner peace, my daily mantra, a quiet contentment that soothes my being, rather than this despair and sadness, that drowns my real feelings.


Choking my emotions before they can bloom, turning joy into grief, confidence to dismay, imposter syndrome that invades every day.

I look in the mirror and loathe what I see, hating the eyes that look back at me. Every inch, every flaw, every mark on my skin, I utterly hate the person within.

I long to shred this cocoon I am in, I beg to feel the sun on my face, to spread new wings and be free of this place.


I long for nirvana, for its beauty, it’s grace. I crave the sunshine upon this cold face. A single tear looses its race, as I step off the ledge into that vast empty space.

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