Gutted

Left with a hallow shell.

Features like carved windows

Which lack drapes

Expose the unfulfilled.

Internal space scooped out,

Evacuated for your amusement.

Only illuminated when you

Choose to light the wick.

My expression does not exist

Until you decide what you

Wish to see written there,

Etched by your hand.

All I feel is voluminous void

You’ve given me no tears to cry.

So I sit with a frozen crooked grin,

Like a suicidal jack o lantern.

Copyright © 2011 Natasha Guy