Cancer.

There is nothing in the pit of my stomach.
There is nothing pulsing in my chest.
My head hurts from all the screaming.
I'd say you were the best one yet.
You got me right where you want me.
And I'm clawing at the surface.
I can't breathe underneath this pressure.
What did I do to deserve this?
I would reach in and pull it out if I could.
I would tear it all apart.
Because of this my best friend is gone.
And I don't have a heart.