“The void will come to take us away,”
she said, tears streaking down her cheeks
“One by one, they pick us off.”
She let go
And I screamed
And screamed
And screamed
Still tightly grasping the wall
Still breathing
Still living
But barely
I yelled, muscles tensed in frustration
The room seemed to be closing in on me
“Calm down. Take deep breaths,” my therapist said
I strained against my head
My conscience breaking into a thousand dissonant voices
“I could have saved her. She didn’t have to go.”
“You couldn’t save yourself. The void was unavoidable,” she said,
Stroking my hair in long, tangled motions
“But I could have. I could have done more. I should have done more.”
Tears streaked across my face, like window wipers spinning out of control.
“The void comes to take us all.”
And with that thought,
I, too, let go
when thinking about stressors, i describe the result as a void. one feels devoid of feeling when facing the worst odds possible, so i tried to sum it up in a poem and how i've lost others to the void.
