Broken

We throw punches. Blows that smack into my face and travel down to my heart. I am bloody and mangled, so I hit back. It goes on like this, but nothing is visible. There is no real blood pouring from my nose and ears. Only the sense of hollowness. I try to be a better person, but I feel so hurt and empty and you look fine. So I try to make you hurt, I try to make you cry. If you cry then I know I am not alone. I think if you cry I will feel a little better, but you always have more to throw at me. We both try to have the last jab and I am sure that you are just as crumpled and broken as I am, but it doesn't seem to help. I don't know what I thought would happen. Maybe I wanted you to come to me so we could comfort each other, but why would you run to the person who can't stop kicking the shit out of you?