Nothing
I tried as best i could
to call forth
even the vague whisper of a memory

(like words that only reach the
back of your tongue,
a phantom thought
teetering
on the tip of remembrance
above the abyss of
a deeply buried past)

but even those shadows seemed to hide
in the deepest recesses of my subconscious;
teasing thoughts
that played with my conception
of reality
saunter no more
about this playground,
the landscape for my most wild
and torrid fantasies:
my imagination.

For it seems,
without the light touch
of times past,
this darkness,
that i feel
must have resided in me
since the beginning of time,
would never again lift
its heavy shroud
upon my soul
for the much needed
moments of peace this allowed me.

Despair permeated each particle of air I inhaled,
for who am I
if the whole of me
remains intact
only in the scattered minds
of those whose faces
no longer inhabit my dreams?

Truly, I believe the nightmares of this paranoid mind
have succumbed to reality


                                                       ­ for i fear I have, at last, become nothing,