There’s a nothingness living inside me,
A big black hole.
It’s always there, no matter how much
Time passes,
No matter how much I cry
Or bleed
Or write about it.
It’s always there, shifting shapes,
Switching strategies,
Choosing how to present itself
As if its presentation made a difference.
There’s a nothingness living inside me
Though sometimes it’s more like
I’m the one who inhabits it.