Vacant or the absence of being?

I am that chasm

where light becomes darkness

creating illusions of the space I am not

I trap hopes

bury them and create death

I’m the decay – spoilt, rotten

brooding, waiting, sly, deceiving, punishing

Undeserving of the bridge that would define me

Would wake me from my delirium

I slither into depths unknown

as far as I can from the heights

which measure me.

I’m only the absence of structure and symmetry

Devoid of substance – I’m opaque

A reflection to the endless shadows of myself

Don’t slash me, please

with the over-expectations of geography

or categorize me into columns of acceptance

Unmatchable – I am that extra without a pair

Your try at complementing or supplementing

would never fill me

That would just empty you

Don’t color me and call me sky

I defy those shades that make life a worthy portrait

The lesser you give me, the more you’re left without

Don’t give me voices in an effort to coax my own

You’d only tire of hearing your own echoes

Take away from yourself the feelings

you evoke on my behalf

It is just pretense – your invented cover-up

for my inability to reciprocate

Your bickering over me is your own battle

with the multitudes of the person you are

I could never hope to be

even a fraction of those luscious folds

Leave me hidden until I learn to bury myself

in a hapless tide of calamity;

something, anything

that would bereave me of my selfish tales

Leave me to be a presence that never was!