The emptiness gnaws at my soul
sucking and pulling,
wild with hunger
like a starving child feeding at my breast,
feeding on my flesh.
The emptiness feeds on me
filling his bottomless pit with my tears;
my bloody tears, his wine.
He snatches my heart and soul,
slithering his burning tongue
around my mind,sucking my hope...
The emptiness steals me and I bleed
until I am nothing..
until I am void.
Author notes
i wrote this a while back ...it had and still barely has any form it was just feelings on paper.. so suggestions,critisms,comments are all welcome. 
Written March 10th, 2005
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Comments
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Unique
I very much like this. I was expecting the usual, almost cliche usage of "a void" rather than the fresh, interesting idea of BEING void. You surprised me in a great way. Thanks for sharing this. -
"Just feelings on paper". That is all poetry is, the stronger the feelings, the stronger the poem. Nice work.
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