Millions [Poetry]

pit

pit

february27twenty18

he peered over the edge.

it blinked back at him, echoing an emptiness that he sympathized with.

he threw words into it, the most divine to the most harmful, to the ones that made his heart sing sonnets.

he threw music into it, all shapes and forms and sounds, great and not so great, lullabies and hard rock ballads.

he threw knowledge into it, of mathematics and tales of those before him, of those who stood on great pillars of marble and those who were left clawing up at the dirt.

he threw feelings into it - most of them. he gave all of his happiness, all of his hope, sadness and anger, guilt, distaste, and confliction.

his heart was still inside of him, for he hadn't given up one thing.

but his heart no longer beat, for all of the love he'd felt move him mountainous had grown tired. tired, in the sense that it no longer wished to be beaten upon.

and so he threw his heart into it, his love, his desire, his hopes and dreams and everything in between.

they are the same now.