Empty spaces hit me harder in the face. The solitude engulfs like never before. An unknown fear has taken deep root.
Every time a drop glistens in the corner of my eye, I can hear love, life and you – laugh at my distress. I try in vain to hold back those salt tears that say my story. They roll down and seek to hold on to those moments when you’ve touched me. They come from that virgin pool of love you dug up in my being. They laugh at me as they roll out. They try to fill a void that is me.
The void makes me harder, more brittle. It causesme to fall and fail. It breaks me, crushes me and takes me closer to death.
The tears, they keep me alive- with no hope, no desire and no life ahead. It’s a tug-of-war of sorts, with my heart in conflict with itself. A movement from void to vacuum; A war that has sorrow battling on either side; A war of the dead. That’s the war waging inside of me.