little fragments of nothing

I always used to tell you

"Words can't describe what you mean to me."

And you would be flattered,

because for me, a writer, to admit I was stunned beyond speech

was the best compliment you ever received.

However, the only thing that words can't describe

is something that does not exist,

something there is no language written for

because it is not of our world.

Void, empty, nothingness.

I never told you this.

That night you came and knocked on my window,

face, a mess of salty self-pity,

I took you into my bed for the last time,

pressed your head to my chest while you cried

apologies, but not even the weight of your body over me

could describe the heaviness in my heart.

"You still love me, though, forever, right?"

you implored, and I knew we both knew it was over.

You didn't required my devotion, just my words

so you could sleep peacefully again.

"Words can't describe what I feel for you."

I slowly choked, and you sighed.

And my soul broke

into little fragments

of nothing.

The End

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