I will carefully try to explain
how it came about
the strange way it eventually happened
that I loved Nothing.

Nothing tastes so good it melts in my mouth like a chocolate stuffed flaky croissant.
Nothing is so colorful and bright it is inescapably beautiful like a fly around a dim light.
Nothing feels so warm it blankets me and brews hot turmeric tea.
Nothing unties my shoulder knots and scares me when I have the hiccups.
Nothing haunts the ghosts and braves the wolves.
Nothing advises me constructively.
Nothing sings me to sleep.

I used to own a bottle
of pieces of my self
And as I grow
The bottle broke
Like stars making out

I used to own the hat
of the likes of us
And sit in comfort
As we hang
on the ceiling rat

I used to own a book
of people I love
But time
Tore it apart, over and over
without care

I used to light a fire
of my passion and heart
As others take warmth
Without their sorry faces
Smiling in the dark

I used to see a light
of life as it passed
but lately I see
The shadow that's left
Swallowing my whole

I used to own a lot of things
Now I own nothing
And maybe that's who I am
Maybe that's the pieces of my love
as I am
without you...

I've tainted our friendship
with love that isn't platonic;
it's spreading fast,
yet I can only see
it's covering nothing

because like us,
we're nothing

admire the blankness:




















now feel the loneliness.














welcome to my heart, dear girl
it is blackness and blankness
please, send someone quick
to fill it