Of Sinkholes and Ice Cream

Down the alley, down the road, I walk. Leaving heartaches behind, smiles I carry with me, I show them off. I walk strong, palpable to the naked eye, felt by the blind, heard by you(even with earphones worn).
Trying to comprehend my purpose, I stopped. Trying to feel the trouble of what's inside, I undressed myself.
Sinkholes were all I had. A sinkhole in my heart, a sinkhole in my mind, of the many sinkholes that I have. A sinkhole deep down inside me. A sinkhole has consumed me, a sinkhole I have become, empty. A temple of sinkholes. One sick sinkhole.
I drown myself. Drown in suffering, suffering of the numb, of the heartless. Strong yet hollow. How could it possibly be?
I wander along the streets of emptiness, of a labyrinth. I lost myself in me. I tried to grasp onto something, of reality and the make-believe. Something in between. Something I could never perchance fathom.
I felt the coldness of the still air, coldness of my warm sinkhole-heart. Is there a cure? I'm not broken. Oh, god forbid.
I know what the heart yearns, what the mind seeks, what the body desires, the cure for all these: ice cream. And perhaps some peanut butter and/or nutella.
With sinkholes and ice cream, I survive.

Mr. Darcy

The newest member of the family just wants to say "Hi!"
You may say "hello" to Mr. Darcy, too!
No updates on life yet. Just Darcy. My life revolves around him.