The raw awareness on my own solitude overwhelms me so, that I cry my eyes out.
I feel it slowly seeping though, burning through my veins like acid eating away and my insides. The liquidness slowly flowing with my own blood.
I feel it creeping, dragging over my skin. It makes me shiver, like having a thousands centipedes drowning me under their tiny bodies.
I feel the pointlessness of my own existence. My own mortality, destined irrevocably to absolute oblivion and darkness.
The silence, the pain of its companionship. In a moment, a single, fleeting moment I am absolutely aware of, and with irrational clarity of my absolute aloneness.
There is sadness,
There is silence and fear,
But there is also fire.
There is no tenderness,
There are no tears,
There are no lies.