I walked into an empty room with a handful of everything I wanted to leave behind, there was a reaching hand that promised me comfort and little tiny piece of hope for exchange. We exchanged with no words.
People noticed a different face on me but not on her.
I promised myself I'll use the piece of hope on her.
It'll take time, a lot of time. Maybe years?
Time was not it. Maybe words?
Lots of words, words are not it.
Maybe nothing?
Yes, nothing.
Nothing never needed hope, time or words.
Nothing never needed anything and maybe that's why it handed everything it had to me, hoping I'd realize being nothing is better.
I realized nothing it is, nothing for me, nothing for her.
So I lose nothing.
Words are ****.
Hope is just an illusion.
Nothing it is.