What am I?
Nothing.
Who am I?
Nothing.
Where am I?
Nowhere.
I'm the empty thoughts in your head.
The sinking bottomless pit in your stomach.
The missing skin and nails on your fingers.
The beads of sweat that cover your pale forehead.
Are you worried, John Doe?
Is someone going to uncover me,
Bringing your dirty secrets into the light?
It shouldn't be long now...
I'm right where you left me.
Six feet under the cold dead ground.
