Life in letters

There's a void in me. 

Or perhaps I am the void. 

Maybe I don't even deserve such title. 

I'm just....nothing. 

I feel darkness surrounding me, 

closing in every second, 

suffocating me, choking me. 

And yet it punishes me in the worst way... 

It allows me to live,

with an existence devoid of the air to breath, 

gasping desperately, trying to inhale the sweet oxygen of life, 

but I cannot. 

So I live in my dying body. 

And so, there is nothing. 

How can there be, when I m trapped in my own corpse?

There is nothing but the pain in my chest. 

I continue to exit in eternal sorrow,

my tears forming a permanent path through my pale cheeks,  

wishing the easy path of death will finally welcome me in its arms.

But even death decided that I am not worth the greeting. 

And so, there is nothing. 

There is nothing, I am nothing,

Everything is nothing.

And this is the lie I tell myself everyday.

Because God knows I wish there is something.

And my greatest fear is knowing there is, but I don't matter enough that it becomes nothing only to me, and something to everyone else. 

So no, of course there will always be nothing. 

Maybe if I say it often enough, it will finally be true.