Nothingness

Think I`m just broken to nothingness. Not even small, dust-like pieces. But nothingness. Maybe, if I could choose what to become right now, I’d become a strangers sight from under the brim of his old weary hat. I’d become a subtle scent of lavender perfume, floating in a filthy crowd. I’d become a stone, an ancient mossy stone that lies his rough pale body somewhere in the most gloomy woods of Ireland. Heal me please, I want to see the light again. I want to feel my heart again. I want to feel at least something except my fingertips beating the keyboard. Click-click. Wake up, wake me up. Wake me fuckin` up, `cause I need to get to our beautiful sky again. And never, never fall anymore. It’s not even painful, it`s just not. In order to be someone in this world I need to feel, so it`s better be painful and scary. Fuck. Maybe, if I fall asleep now, it could be easy next morning to open my eyes, see the ceiling and try again to break the icy walls of this indifference. I don’t want to embrace the emptiness anymore, to hell the emptiness. To hell the apathy. Wake me up, for we could be whole once and forever.