Still

i am nothing but a shell
emptied of my former self
so hollow that i echo when touched
but who can i tell?
no one.

everyone needs me to be something
a daughter, a lover, a protector, a friend
i can't tell them i'm nothing
so i pretend to be everything
i am everything.

yet i cannot be filled
i wonder why no one can see it
see it through my eyes
that the movement of my soul
has been stilled.