Untitled I guess?

I was curled into a ball hugging my knees to my chest. I drew in ragged breaths that shuddered through the hole in my heart. The gaping wound that would not be stitched up. I bit down on my lower lip to hold in my quiet sobs. I hadn't left my room in two days. Not to take a shower, not to eat. Meals mysteriously appeared at my door three times a day. A single knock signaled there arrival. Mom was worried so I ate what I could without bile rising up from the pit of my stomach. I had barely slept and hadn't uttered a word to anyone. I wasn't sure my voice worked anymore. My insides were breaking and spilling out through the cracks. I thought heartbreak was supposed to bring numbness; I needed that phase to come soon. The raw pain ravaging my body was too much to bear. I have sixteen missed calls on my phone. My friends must all know by now. I've heard the doorbell ring, the hushed whispers, but no one's ever tried to come up to my room. For that, I was greateful. I'm a mess and I can't think of anything that will make it better. No amount of hugs or smiles, kind words or baked goods will help. Those gestures are hollow; most things are now. Life itself is hollow; empty. As soon as he spoke the words, I shut down. I've missed my favorite shows, homework goes undone. I think I've missed a few tests and I know I had an essay due at some point. Sooner or later I'll have to go back to school. I'll have to fake a tiny bit of happiness for my mom's sake. I hate to worry her so I'll have to paste on a smile and prepare for a whole lot of denial. But my heart is leaking and I don't know if I can stop it. I can't hide it just yet. I can't control it, can't hide the zombie in my eyes. Right now, I can't even begin to take the first step to being okay.