Filled

I am being hollowed out by pain,
which leaves an emptiness to be filled.
That's not why I'm wracked with pain,
but maybe I can put the wracking
to a good end. I can choose,
choose freely. No, that's not right.
It's not my choice; it's been given to me,
a mixture of genetic strength,
social mores and education.

So, here I am, praying
that the emptiness will be filled,
that the mirror of my perception
will be polished and shine brightly
even in the blackest of hours.