I am a hollow man

So full of emptiness.

My heart

a radical negative one.

My blade-thin days march long behind

their avalanche footfalls thunder in my head,

turning sideways-invisible

when I look over my shoulder.

Better if I could turn and see them

full in their faces,

instead of sideways glances from sidewise eyes.

Their sharp gazes are

those of friends,

those of enemies,

those of innocents,

swept up as shards of remembrance

in my retinue.

They fill me with hollowness,

because they are partial, themselves.