Hollow by Rachel Toner

I do not know who I am.
Nor what I am.
With no routine to guide me,
I lose myself in the endless hours.

In the broader spectrum
Of tragedy, I have
Little to demand
Complaint.

I read of sadness
Every day and attempt
To put myself in the
Position of others.

But, I am alive.
I am alive.

When we lose our
Empathy for others
That is when we lose ourselves.