Despair doesn’t even feel close enough to describing it.
A pit doesn’t sound deep enough
And a mountain just isn’t quite big enough
The emptiness I feel
leaves a hollow echoing
that’s a screeching ringing
That’s just growing
and bellowing
and destroying
everything
I’m beyond broken tattered and shattered
Not even reaching for abused and battered
Barely an existence of being
I’ll be gone soon enough
so what does it matter
Just carry on with your own stuff.