void

I wanted to write tonight,

to pull from the void

an expression of

the emptiness in me right now

and tell you how I feel,

to say something that mattered,

that might make a difference,

and change this moment

for both of us;

the problem is…

the void is just that,

and all I have to offer you

is nothing.

how the heart dies

You offered it,

the hope I held on to,

this sense of security and meaning,

without my asking,

without my wanting–

I reached for it,

for what it meant,

because you offered,

because it mattered;

but what I grasped

was emptiness,

lonely and cold–

abandoned

after so many promises,

so many offers;

silence and waiting

are what I have now,

what I deserve,

for what I am

and am not,

the emptiness widening

and pain…

so much pain…

and this hope now

falters and fades,

and so must I.

Shotgun Silence

And when the silence takes me
all that will remain will be the
empty echo of what never was
straining in the background
of a world that never noticed,
a resonant dissonance lost
in the decay of itself.

gutted

The void internal:
an empty expanse,
only a reminder of what was
and now is not;

a loss of blood,
a loss of soul,
a loss of being,
remains the cold;

and there is nothing
to stop stop the egress
of a heart with nothing to hold it,
and protect it from itself;

if there was anything but this,
anything more than nothing,
that could save me,
the me that was you,
I would surrender,
but there is only

time that is not mine

and the void eternal.