They burn my face, the cut my skin leaving behind the proof of my emptiness.
I bear the scars of my love and my loss and the pain . . . The pain so sweet and the release so complete.
The oblivion and the darkness of death calls me to them. Or are they in me already?
The numbness spreads from within me, the ice.
The ice sharp as needles, from inside me slowly crawling to the surface.
To feel it. To feel nothing. To slowly give in.
Accept to be one, only one. In the cold, in the darkness, in the arid emptiness of human life.