Feeding The Void
(Not really edited, no fandom, just ~Garry~)
Masterlist
Reading, for hours on end, completely lost in a story, drowning in words until… there are none left to drown in.
Lungs burning from the emptiness that follows the loss of the drowning. Words faded, attention broken after hours.
A void left behind, with no words left to fill it. Heartbreak. Thoughts spiral into the void that threatens to swallow them whole.
The void in the back of a mind reaches out, hands grasping at their throat. The void whispers, “This is truly drowning.”
Spiraling, falling, then grounding.
A hand lays over their eyes. Warm. Heavy. Not pushing, only holding the pieces that threaten to splinter, to shatter, to fall.
The first instinct is to claw back to the light, hand gripping hand, trembling fingertips curling under heavy digits, but a pause follows. Torn. To pull back, or to give in?
The hand that trembles falls away. Acceptance, which feels an awful lot like surrender.
“Be the story. Don’t think, just write.”
And so, they do. The void quiets, the only darkness here is the ink, new words, a new story, this time, of their own creation. They fight the void with only two weapons; a pen and a page, words that fill the void once again. Satiate the hunger, if only for this moment, until they must brandish their pen another day.
