A Whole Hole

A Whole Hole

Shaking like an aspen 

in a static summer breeze,

there are no

sunny feelings anymore.

Not ashamed,

because I gave it all I had

and it left me empty,

hollowed in the middle,

a whole hole 

where sand and sugar

used to be.

Shallow,

not being able

to see through walls,

or the sarcasm  

in her smile.

She aggravates me, truly.

Been buried before;

I can handle the weight

but not the pressure.

And I wash 

in warm wine,

slipping into fine frustration,

grasping at the not so many straws

I have left.

Believing,

the next time it will be better.

Or at least trying too.