The Void

The Void

A Poem by K. C. Wells

Depression is hard to explain, it's like a void... a hole in your chest that you just can't get rid of and that tries to consume you.


Half-past twelve the clock read in the dead of the night. Nothing but shadows and thoughts to occupy a brain that was troubled. Thoughts of pain, thoughts of hurt, thoughts of sadness, thoughts of tiredness. Oh, for it all to end, if only it would all end. The unfairness of life, why do we all have to be different, why do people have to be unkind. What is there left to live for when life holds no good anymore. No good at home or away, no good at work or at play, nothing worth holding on to, nothing. It’s nothing, it’s just in your head, there’s nothing wrong with them. It must be me, it must be I, oh, why, oh, why. An emptiness deep in my chest, a void that can’t be filled up. Just pain and hurt and sorrow lie there with nothing to soothe it. The pain, the pain, oh, the pain. If only it would just go away.

Why not silence it for good then, why not make it go away. It is only something that you feel anyway. Why not silence it forever and live in eternal bliss. Why not stop it from happening ever again. Falling into the void, in the never ending darkness. Falling, always falling with no way to stop it. No way out, no way up, only falling, endless falling. Falling into yourself. Self destructing by the minute, no way out, no way. It can’t get better, how could it get better. No one cares, no one knows, yet it must be plain. Always living half dying because of the pain. Going through the motions of someone else’s life. Still every day falling more and more into the void, more pain to be added, more hurt to be gained. Oh, for it all to end, what else could be left in the end.

Then dawn breaks and then I see, someone had stopped me. Somewhere along the way a hand had brought me up you see. While I was lost they found me, all the while unknowingly. The sun feels good upon my face as I wonder at what might have been. Still not easy, still hard, but the sun helps. The warmth, the kindness, the accepting ways. The promise of much brighter days. They didn’t know, they hadn’t heard, but still there was the comforting words. There was nothing wrong with me, as normal as can be. Some hard times they may be, but all have hard times I see. I might not be so wrong, might not be quite so alone.

So much life left yet for me, so much left yet to see. Regaining my feet I move on, and try to stay above the void. It still becons, it still calls, but the sun is sweeter and that’s where I’ll stay. Sometimes I may falter a bit and my foot may make a little slip. In the end there’s always an arm, to pull me out into the sun once more.

© 2008 K. C. Wells

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This is sad and beautiful. You are not alone in feeling this way although I know it feels that way.
There is a lot of kind people in the world as well as unkind sit back and watch you can tell them
apart easily if you watch how they treat other people. Take care, great read.

Posted 13 Years Ago

0 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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1 Review
Added on February 10, 2008
Last Updated on February 10, 2008


K. C. Wells
K. C. Wells

Goldsboro, NC

An update. I am still writing occasionally on my blog which is featured in my profile. I haven't had much time for major writing for awhile, but I do hope to pick it up again in the future. I am cu.. more..

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