Emptiness:
A gigantic black hole that slowly increases,
And quietly wrecks havoc on ones emotions.
It devours your moments of endless bliss,
Along with the moments of hurt and pain.
Slowly it consumes your once-bright spirit,
And successfully clouds your thoughts, your mind.
It is the slowest form of death,
Whenever it has finally enveloped your soul.
It's a disease that evaporates away your tears:
The tears of a long-missed emotion.
It causes you to pray for good or bad,
Either or will defeat this spirit-killing spell.
It takes away the pain that once made you human,
And stolen your ability to an emotional release.
It painfully rapes away your humanity,
Stealing away the significant memories in your mind,
That once satisfied your need for happiness.
This black hole consumes everything in its way,
Devouring everything and leaving nothing...
Nothing but a destructive dreadful death:
Emptiness.
By: Jasmine Aburouman
July 19, 2006
2:23 am
Author notes
I wrote the poems above last night when I was lying in bed. I felt so empty inside. I didn't feel happiness, and I didn't feel sad either. I just felt this dreadful feeling weighing me down. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't because no tears would come out. I won't go into detail of why I felt this way, but I just felt it. Then my muse reignited my ability to write. I just wrote down how I'm feeling. The first poem is just about how the emptiness is making me feel. "Emptiness" is the worst feeling one can feel. I explained exactly what the emptiness I was feeling was with the second poem. Writing these poems was a great emotional release and now I feel better. I guess every once in a while my past demons escape.
Thanks for reading,
Jasmine
Written July 19th, 2006
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Comments
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You can't let this happen often!
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I spent six years in Adult Children of Alcholics. Everyone there would talk about the black hole inside them at one point or another. Your poem catches this exquisitly. It is more than depression. It is this feeling of . . . well you described it so well. It took me a long time to find out how to center my life somewhere else and how to walk on soft ground and not gilded splinters. It took learning how to breathe and center, how to be when the wind is blowing down empty hallways. Well enough of my memories. great job. Love, Tom B.
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WOW!! What else can I say But Great job...And like you said when I lay in bed at night I get the best ideas for my poems...Maybe it's so dark and quiet that you can just lay there and think....But this poem was great..It had alot of meaning and you decribed what emtiness ment to you so well...Great write!!
~^Sara^~
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