Empty Words

:5:

Death. Do you fear death? The afterlife? The absence of a human due to their light turning off? He didn't. He was ready to know what happens, he was ready for the surprise. Are you? Am I? 

Grief, tomorrow, love, why do they tie into death? Because they just do.

You feel the sorrow of your grief when one is lost.

You fear that as they have no tomorrow, you may not either.

You love the one you lost, and now your heart aches at the new drained feeling.

Do you understand yet? Understand why I picked these words? 

Do you feel the coarse in your veins at death? Do you stay up past 2 A.M. to grief over one you love? One you lost that you won't see tomorrow or anytime after? Feel it. Because it's what I feel. Constantly. I can feel the bitter breeze and how harsh it is. I can feel the tears when they build up inside me, not just inside my eyes. The bags under my eyes symbolize how lost I am. I have no words left because death emptied them for me. When the dark abyss of death came and consumed my dear friend, I couldn't help but feel his pain consume me as his switch turned off. When he started turning off the switch, I could sense his grief in the air. As his light blew, I could feel the pain he would've felt tomorrow if he would've stayed. As he continued to evaporate himself, I could feel his lack of love that was given to him. When the darkness roamed, I could smell the fresh smell of death grow heavily around me. The connection let me understand what happened before I even knew.

He. Is. Gone. 

I know that? So why can't I accept that? I can accept the fact 5x7=35, so why is this any different? Because it's important, I suppose. I hate that pain sticks more than joy, why can't I remember the good times with him without crying? He. RUINED. That. He ruined me. 

They tell me I have to accept reality, accept the truth, the fact, but I do not want to. I mean I want to, but I cannot seem to get over it. How long has it been? A week? A month? Months? 

I can't remember. I just can't. It feels like five minutes ago, it feels like I watched him vanish himself; turn off his switch. I don't know anything anymore, except he turned it off. He turned his switch off. It's off. Gone. Grief. Love. Tomorrow. Death. Death... Suicide...

I thought I wouldn't say it but I can't help the fact I can see it all so well. I can imagine what he did, how he felt, what he wanted.

I know that the moment before he was... gone, he felt the most alive. He felt the climax of his story, the peak of his life. I'm happy that I know he's had a good riddance for himself. But I am selfish because I hate it. It hurts me. 

Gonegonegonegonegone, but after so much of it, the word becomes empty like the rest.

Suicidesuicidesuicidesuicidesuicide, but after so much of it, the word becomes empty like the rest.

Deathdeathdeathdeathdeath, but after so much of it, the word becomes empty like the rest.

There are no words left to break down. Now only I can break down. He left all the words I type empty. He left the meaning to everything empty. He left my cup empty. He left me empty. 

Emptyemptyemptyemptyempty, but after so much of it, it remains the same. Just empty.