Hollow; that's all I feel. I would swear to God that my heart was no longer in my chest if it wasn't for its white-noise beating in my ears. The air around me makes me feel trapped; as if I'm in a cage. The people in my life are merely voyeurs; tourists. The are hollow, as well. They watch me pace back and forth in my cage, as sanity eludes me. They watch me get reduced by loneliness to my most primal instincts. I pace faster. I scream from the deepest part of my empty existence. I sob. The sobbing shakes me to my unstable core. The tourists watch on, exchanging uncomfortable glances with one another. I dig my fingers into the cage, attempting to pry it open over and over again. My fingers begin to bleed, but I don't stop. The tourists grow more uneasy. They begin to back away. I throw myself against the cage with all of my strength, but I cannot seem to break out. The tourists' eyes become clouded by fear that I may escape. They begin to walk, then run, in the opposite direction. I give up, I give in; and once again, I am alone.