Kiss my hole

It's like there's a hole, an abyss. How dramatic. But I can't think of another way to describe this feeling. This hole simply drains the life out of me. The want, the desire to do better, to be more. They're gone. These desires are stuck at the bottom of the hole, maybe they've even drained away by now. And it's not just that there's a hole... it's the absolute compulsion to fill it. With food. With pot. With anger or tears. With anything. But at the same time I know it won't work. Yet I try and I try. It's a terrible feeling and most of the time I want to do something about it. But the rest of the time - like when I'm stuffed with crap and my ass is suctioned onto the couch - I really couldn't give a fuck. It's terrible. It really is. I'm still not going back on those pills. I just need to wait until it eases and get up... hopefully, if I get moving and healthier, next time it won't hurt so damn much.