On magic stars and Matinta Perera

 When they ask me how I am, I say that I am okay.
I am okay.
I am okay, but angry.
I am okay, but empty.

How can one be empty and still angry?

Every night I go to sleep and I know deep down
That it's my favourite part of the day
A moment of blissful oblivion
But I am empty angry so I still shout 
"I wish, I wish, I wish"
Hoping Matinta Perera will listen 
And grant me a sure-to-become-true wish
Whatever the cost might be.

I wish for him to be back and for the bed not to be so cold
I wish for his feet to intertwine with mine under the covers
I wish for his warmth and I wish for the feeling of him in my arms
I wish, I wish, I wish
Whatever I need to call, witch, fairygodmother, a star to wish upon
I wish being with him and I miss the part of me that was lost with him.

I know I am alive because I feel it every day
Empty angry is also sad
Empty angry is also bitter
Empty angry is also not truly wanting to wake up the next day
Empty angry sounds a lot like "Take me with you, please"
Empty angry sounds noble but it looks just like suicidal ideation, but decorated
Made prettier, more artistic, and quite meta with this poem
Empty angry might be the two words that stand out
From the mix of joy and grief and sorrow and regrets and living
I know I am alive because I am angry and my heart feels empty

My heart aches with the knowledge that I have become something 
Something so absolutely far from who I was that maybe 
Maybe he would not even recognize me 
Maybe I have become someome who does not deserve or could have
His love

I wish, I wish, I wish
I wish because I've been through so much pain
I wish because I deserved so much better
I wish because there is no other way I could survive
I wish, I wish I wish
And wishing itself is injury anew.