Untitled

Nothing.

 

That’s all I feel anymore.

Just blank pages.

Blank faces.

Blank canvases.

Blank.

Blank.

Blank.

 

All I hear is static.

Static TV.

Static voices.

 

Blades are all I touch anymore.

Serrated.

Clean.

Cutting deeply,

Breathlessly,

Tearlessly.

Hopelessly.

Painlessly.

Thanklessly.

 

Stick the knife in my gut.

Simplify the pain.

Lull me to death

In your quiet helplessness.

Throw darts at me.

Chain me.

Break me.

Hit me.

Curse me.

But for God’s sake.

Let me feel something.

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