Emptiness, like hunger, grows
Waiting to be fed,
To be filled with something, anything,
The hurt growing as it is left to sit and brew,
Nothing can satiate this hunger.
The Hunger of young minds,
Pleading for knowledge,
The Hunger of old souls,
Pleading for peace,
Both waiting for the empty void to fill.
A void so quiet that a drip onto cold metal could echo forever,
Echo, and be a reminder of the great empty valley,
A valley of stone and steel,
Cold. Hard. Broken.
Nothing can stay here.
Every bit of warmth,
Every bit of kindness,
Every bit of love,
Finds a crack to seep through,
Creates a broken prison that succeeds only in trapping emptiness
A prison that holds its own creator,
Binds them,
Chokes them,
Suffocates them,
Breaks them until they can't be broken any more.
Words fighting to be spoken,
Tears fighting to be shed,
But only emptiness is left,
There is nothing here,
Nothing remains.
No tears left to cry,
No thoughts left to think,
No breaths left to take,
No words left to speak,
And the rest, they say, is silence,
Which falls, piercing, like a scream.
_____
Not much to say about this. I wrote it about a month ago.
-Alyssa-
