It is gradual, insidious, cunning.
I slip, slip, slip down into the darkness,
its waves covering me, masking me,
sucking me into its void.
A black hole of nothingness,
where cries of despair no longer echo
but end sharply, cuttingly, abruptly.
An unearthly stillness,
a catching of breath,
then a slow release that’s not a release,
but only more weight,
dragging me down, down, down into obscurity.
There is no light, no sound, no life, no hope.
A stillness, a waiting — not expectant,
but a relenting to the darkness,
its presence a living, breathing, creeping thing.
My soul is wounded, easy prey for the shadows
that wait patiently in the quiet.
All energy, breath, life is sucked dry
with nothing left to give, no desire to give,
There is no life, no sound, no light.
There is no future, no hope, no dream.
It takes more than I have to dream.
The sobbing is more than crying —
it is an emptying, a stealing, a taking
with nothing left in its wake.
Cold, dark, damp.
Slimy, keening vacuum.
It has all of eternity to feast on this soul.
It licks its lips in anticipation of the
tenderness to be destroyed.
The black hole is more alive than I am,
its eyes watching me, searing me
with a vacant blindness that still sees.
Sees too much.
A rustling – furtive –
a licking, smacking anxiousness
in the murky gloom.
It waits for me, as it has done before.
I have no strength to fight it.
My thoughts are muddied.
The weight of the darkness suffocates,
pushing the air out of my lungs.
My bones – no bones – no shape –
no light – no sound.
There is only this barren wasteland
and I no longer care.
I’m exhausted. I just want to rest.
To catapult into oblivion,
among the stars, weightless,
no control or direction.
I am abandoned.
Is this surrender?
To what end – nothing? A future?
Must so much of me die in order to live?
And then – on a distant horizon –
the tiniest pinprick of light.
It blazes into my soul
and I breathe…
I am safe.
I can dream.