ordeal of nothingness

I feel nothing.
I have a deep dent in my chest where my heart is supposed to be, but I'm not sorry.
I can't help not wanting to wake up in the morning.
my nightmares are mixing in with reality and it's hard for me to decipher what's real anymore. 
the word 'emptiness' ricochets in between my ribs, like it found it's home,
and I've never been a home to anything before. 

I have nothing.
family is just a word I've learned from the dictionary.
but if family is the painful sensation you get in your throat after a shot of whiskey, then maybe I'm more familiar with it than I thought.
everyone I've ever loved took a leap into the oblivion, and now I don't know what it feels like to hold a hand that doesn't want to squeeze around my neck.

I do nothing.
events are filled on my calendar, but it's all meaningless.
the stress pumping through my veins beg to differ, but I'm not complaining.
I'm waiting for time to run out,
thinking anything could be less painful than this overpowering emptiness.
"you could prevent this if you try", they say.
but don't they know that everything I touch crumbles beneath my fingertips?

I guess I finally snapped.
I'm somewhere under my looming shadow,
with no intentions of coming out from hiding.
I'm searching for an untouchable antidote to the everlasting numbness in my shaking bones.
and somewhere within the deep freezing planetary swirl of my mind, I'm there.
but that means nothing.

I
am
nothing.

Reviews

[Gee]

This perfectly sums up a good friend whose husband has just skidaddled after 20 years of marriage and is now dating a mother of three, leaving his own brood of three behind.