there is a void.
that's one of those things people don't tell you.
beyond all the crying,
all the grieving and the
wishing-i-was-dead-ing,
there is an endless,
insurmountable
abyss.
there's a lower.
we tend to say it couldn't get worst, but it always can.
beyond all the cursing,
all the raging and the
wishing-you-were-dead-ing,
there's an insatiable,
unfillable,
hole.
there's nothing.
how are we supposed to deal with the nothingness?
how are we supposed to fight against this emptiness?
beyond Seattle's raining,
all the blood dripping and the
running-after-my-own-death-ing,
there's nothing waiting for me.
beyond desolation,
there is a void.
