Stark naked, she runs in noiseless screams

fading trails of destiny wisp across sky

the moon sets in silence behind her fears

her blood bleeds colorless grains of time

full moon floods lights on desperate soul

rotating columns of light twist and spin

we’re all the same, we’re all alone

somber and deep cries of ebony skies

walking barefoot on husks of crushed stars

golden wine of moon poured on her sorrows

moon’s fiery brow of incestuous affinity

urges her to yield to endless tomorrow of sleep

moon devours her soul and then spits it out

we’re all the same, we’re all alone

He sat still.

An impossible feat in today’s world.

Everyone is always trying to get somewhere.

Legs bounce on the subway, in class, in the office at work.

Fingers tapping, tapping pencils, tapping keys on a keyboard,

tapping morse code on the desk in the naive hope that someone will hear you.

But he sat still. He did not move or sway to make room for the crowds.

He did not need to, they passed right through him

as if he was never even there.

His eyes open, drinking in every sight.

Every mugging on these busy streets, he bore witness.

He could do nothing, for he is a blank slate in a world of painted canvases.

Could not move. Could not touch.

He could only feel.

At first he tried. He screamed, he ran, he struggled.

He could do nothing.

So eventually,

he stood still.

A sentry among the swirling mass of bodies.

He no longer saw them as people.

Once upon a time he did,

he saw them as art, as painted canvases,

but now he sees them as bodies.

bags full of rotting meat.

He thinks that “they are even more blank than me,

and we’re all just a mass of faces.

We swirl and change, but deep down, we’re always blank.”

He says to them “you can’t keep living like this,

as sacks of meat, floating through life like broken mirrors.

You have to wake up, look at the sky, and decide:

today is the day I stop moving.”

the shore of the pond is sandy, blandly melting into the matted grey clouds above.

i try to draw a heart, my finger shaking as it traces through bits of rock. impulse takes over at the last moment, slashing the curved form in half with a jagged line.

the heart is broken. just like mine.

a rock finds its way into my hand, and i toss it into the shadowy water, watching it sink. down, down, down.

there's no one else around. i don't know why i would expect anything else, but there was a spark of hope. it's gone now, hushed into only a whisper of smoke.

i flatten myself against the shore, looking up at the sky.

one day, it will be different. i'll want to do, see, and be everything.

but for now, nothing will be okay.

Emily sits cross-legged in front of her closet and stares into the mirror door trying to find her face. Since the overhead light is switched off all she has to work with is scattered moonlight, so she tries focusing harder, intent on studying the features of the girl stuck there—in the shadows—filling up the space where her own face should be.

Emily lifts her eyebrow

and watches as the girl does the same.

She snarls

and the girl copies.

Suddenly, from behind her bedroom door, Emily hears a noise. They are fucking again. She doesn't mind...shouldn't mind...but she can hear his voice in her ear, telling her that whenever he fucks Lori it is like he is fucking a skeleton, he tells her that he can see how she, Emily, looks at people, notices things, that she's different. The memory causes her to stand up so quickly she sways like a drunk; then she rushes for the door checking frantically, quietly, that it is still locked. And as the groaning gets louder all she can do is to sit back down and resume the search for her eyes, her lips, her nose, none of which she can seem to find in the scattered moonlight.

"Take care of your Mom."

That's what my Father whispered in my ear as I hugged him goodbye. He was just doing his job, returning me to my Mother's house on that bitter-cold Sunday morning, it was the agreement they had when they split years before. Nothing in the agreement mentioned what to do when my Grandma died that morning, though. The news rattled my core in the worst ways, she was truly the only person who would listen. I was unprepared, and further broken than a glass shattered in a million pieces. She was my bestfriend, my savior. I didn't want to share the loss I felt with anyone, so instead it was forceably shoved down as my weak body walked to my crying Mother.

"It'll be okay, shhh."

If only I could count how many times I repeated this phrase that day, it was what my Dad would tell me whenever I came to him crying because of a bad dream. I remember wrapping my frozen stiff arms around her, knowing no one would hug me like I did her. Quickly, I grew to understand why he had asked me to take care of my Mom. She was never very stable, but with Grandma gone, everything around her turned to the chaos that she was on the inside.

She and her boyfriend fought more, yelling over money like we didn't live off of his rich great-grand parents paychecks. The children all cried more, and began running to me in moments of uncertainty. My Mom's family all avoided us, because no one liked her boyfriend, who was nearly as empathetic as a rock. But me, I blanked. It was like the world around me turned to static and I was merely a broken television on auto-pilot for what felt like years. Not ever even moping, but simply not feeling, nothing good, nothing bad, just nothing.

School was and endless wave of work, and trying to keep afloat with the one friend I had wasn't feesible for my tiresome fifth grade life. I was so empty, yet so full of bottled up emotions. The fights the adults got into stopped being interviened by me. The children stopped depending on me. My Mom's family stopped small talking with me the times that they did come around. I was surrounded with those who felt the same despair as myself, yet felt no connection. Not floating above the water, not drowning either, I was less consious than a single-celled organism. I didn't feel broken or whole, but the house that was my body became vacant--all signs of life deserted. Anything left was defective, flawed, and over-all useless. Completely hollow.

The boy sat there trying to save the mustard that was oozing out of his ham sandwich as he sat on the bench, swinging his legs. Janie pulled a napkin out of her lunchbag and handed it to him as she another bite of her chocolate pudding. He grabbed it and thanked his friend. He was happy, excited to be alive.

But only for a moment. Then it faded into dullness. And though Janie was in arm’s reach, he felt so alone. He seemed to lull out of existance for a moment, just losing himself in his mind. And to Janie, it just looked like he was blank. His legs had stopped swinging, and he was just holding his sandwich in silence. But he wasn’t blank. He was going through the maze of his mind, she just didn’t know it. Nobody did. Nobody understood what he thought, and he didn’t even want them to! What are the chances they would understand? Close to zero. And more importantly, would they keep the secrets and thoughts he locked in his head? They were all weighing him down, but no, no, he needed more. Thinking was like a drug to the boy. It made him feel good, but it weighed him down in the end. Maybe it felt so good to him because he felt more blank in real life than inside his head. Janie waved her hand in front of his eyes, and he snapped back to the world.

Ice and snow. Snow and ice. She wanders through them both. Away from me. Away from the cabin that has kept her safe. The fire that has kept her warm. Away from the saftey of my protection. Everything, gone. Lost in the ice and the snow. The snow and the ice. She doesn't understand why I need her. She doesn't understand how lucky she is, the honor it is, the beauty of it all. I pull on my boots, my coat, my hat, my gloves and follow her out into the ice and snow. Snow and ice.

The snow is deep. The wind is blowing, blowing me numb on this dark, starless night. Clouds blanket the sky, dropping the snow mercilessly down. What if she is lost. She need me, though she does not know it. I need her, though I've done nothing until now to show it.

The ice is cold, the snow unforgiving. I sink down under a tree. I will never find her like this. I am truly all alone. She was the bright spot, the glimmer through the despair, gone now. Gone like the stars hidden away from me behind the clouds. We are doomed without her. All is lost.

The ice and snow seep down through my clothes all the way to my bones. That feeling of nothingness, blank and empty, spreads throughout my body. All feeling, all emotions have been washed away by the ice and snow. Snow and ice. What is the point of feelings? Of emotions? All is lost anyways. What does it matter? What does any of it matter? The joy, pain, love, loss, are all gone. Why feel anything at all when your reason to live, the thing that you needed to survive, has run away?

#nothingness #iceandsnow #alone #empty

she sits on the couch with tears flowing down her face. the movie just ended with the two leads getting married as so many love stories do. but her tears arent from happiness for the characters. the tears are for her. most people love weddings but she doesnt. they remind her of how lonely she is. not in terms of her being single but in regards to friends. she often wondered if she had a wedding how many people would be there? how many bridesmaids will she have, if any at all? how many people would be there that she wanted to invite versus those she had to invite. would her side be empty while her husband's overflowed? how could she have gone through life and not accumulated friends? some 'friends' were simply her friends through association and when they no longer had that association, they left. some she had considered her closest friends but they didnt even consider her as part of their inner-circle. and those she considered her best friends would never reach out to her. any news she got would be given months after they had happened. parties would be thrown and the invites would be forgotten to send to her. people would say they got their friends in highschool but how was she to find friends when she was trying to find herself? in university no friends were obtained either as no one would speak to her except in regards to assignments and the workforce still yields nothing. she goes out with her colleagues for drinks but no one seems interested in being friends. they all have their own lives, their own friends. and so she sits on the counch, crying with no one to confort her.