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The void.

You've been here before.

Floating, drowning.

It's empty here, calm here. Nothing happens, it leaves you at odds with yourself.

You will rot here.

That's what scares you, not the dark, not the quiet, not the stillness.

The fact that no matter what you try to do, the void will always stay quiet, let you ravage yourself.

It's been months.

You haven't cleaned anything, your phone is quiet. Nobody checks up on you anymore.

Not even her.

Your last bastion, the anchor preventing you from slipping in deeper. She let go, or you let her go. It's hard to tell, one way or another you fell.

Now you float in perpetuity.

You try to claw out, the plastic bottles are growing, the cardboard boxes of old food. You stare, you cry. Yet nothing changes. It will be there, the void in your head will stay there.

No lifeline, no salvation.

You've stopped crying, stopped fighting. The liquid in the bottles start to discolour under the sun, it's pitiful you can't see the beauty in that. Everything is under the light.

Except you.

The floor is invisible, covered in darkness. Not just cardboard boxes now, books, clothes, things you threw on the floor because 'it can't get worse right?' you are both right and wrong. That attitude got you here, that attitude will keep you here. But, it can't get worse.

You've hit the bottom.

You've seen the void at the furthest recess of space. You've hit the bottom of the deep ocean, where there's no light left to see. Just the darkness.

All you can do is want, wish for another time. Be nostalgic for those days where people cared, where you cared. Where the rot wasn't here, when you could get out of bed without it being a struggle. Without it all trying to crush you, drown you.

Where you could go places without feeling like a faker.

A loser.

A mockery of life itself.

Now you just sit, alone. Aware of what you could have done differently, what could have made it better. How you could have held onto her, your friends and everything else.

You hate yourself.

The void doesn't care.

The void just watches.

It doesn't laugh, those cries are in your head.

It's all in your head.

Otherwise you'd drag yourself out of this, you'd see a brighter future.

There's still time, you tell yourself.

But it keeps getting worse.

It will always get worse.

Until another star explodes, another flash of light comes and illuminates the darkness again. The void is strong now, the dark will swallow you whole.

But time marches forward.

You must march forward.

Not now, that's impossible. The void is choking the oxygen out of you with an iron grip.

But it will happen.

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