Staring at nothingness, realizing I am nothing.


Staring at the ceiling above me,
Pale and white, the paint shedding off
I pause, and stare
Drowning my sorrows every night,
Sitting on this old wooden bed,
Eyes fixated upon the same illuminated screen
The realization of failure,
The realization of nothingness,
The realization of woes and sadness
I look up again at the ceiling,
Trying to find some purpose,
Maybe just maybe, the white old paint has the answers
The paint, the screen, the whirling thoughts
Thoughts of love and desire
Thoughts of pain and heartache to come
There’s no escape…
I wish I had nothing. Nothing would be better,
Better than living among lies
Nothing would suite me just fine now,
As I am nothing,
And nothing I shall be.

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