There is an emptiness in the air, a dark lingering emptiness.

It is everything we breathe, it is everything we are surrounded by.

Inhaled into our delicate lungs,

It takes over our being until it is within ourselves, and we are empty as well.

It feeds off our happiness, and drinks everything we are.

Invading our body, waiting for the moments to grow.

And it only takes one thought,

That one thought of insignificance settles into our systems

Like a virus it overwrites what we once were, pre-infection.

Producing more thoughts, and soon they’re all we know.

We only understand we are worthless,

Nothing will change our status.

We swallow these thoughts like deadly pills, one by one.

We are committing mental suicide.

Hoping we fall into oblivion.

But it’s an endless fall into the void that we suffer.

Its an inescapable kind of emptiness,

The kind that drowns us, yet it comforts our sorrows.

It is a numb feeling, yet it activates the depth of our minds.

The emptiness makes us feel alone,

Like no one in the world exists.

Like no one in the world matters,

We are here to be born, to birth, and to die.

The emptiness that we inhale is fatalistic.

It sits in the pit of our stomachs,

Slowly devouring the only reasons,

We are still alive.


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