When I...

[Bornieo: Fully Loaded]

It hurts.
It hurts in the morning
It hurts at night
It hurts when the sun shines
It hurts when the goes away
It hurts when the moon rises
It hurts when the moon falls
It hurts in my soul
It hurts in my heart
It hurts in my mind
It hurts in my eyes
It hurts in my head
It hurts in my fingers
It hurts when the songs play
It hurts when I say the name
It hurts when I am near
It hurts when I think
It hurts when I feel
It hurts when I cry
It hurts when I doubt
It hurts when I love
It hurts when I loose
It hurts when remember
It hurts when I see
It hurts when I forget
It hurts when I want
It hurts when I eat
It hurts when I drink
It hurts when I walk
It hurts when I dream
It hurts when I wake
It hurts when I am...

Where does the it go?
I want to be numb.
I want to disappear
I want to leave
I want to sleep
I want to forget
I want to stop
I want to stop aching

Stop aching
Stop hurting
Stop feeling
Stop thinking
Stop breathing
stop remembering
Stop seeing
Stop

How can the body remain active after the soul has left?
Where exactly does it leave, through the eyes?
Does the hollow feeling ever leave too?
How can it be such a mass that there is yet nothing left inside but the pain, sorrow and the pressure of nothingness?
If 100% of nothing is nothing, then why move?
Why breath?
Why try?
Why even consider change?
Why think that it could exist?
Why believe in everything?
Why shout and something that fails you?
Why trust that what is left will sustain you for the next slaughter?
Why say anything?

Can’t it evaporate into mist?
Can’t you drink to make it wash away?
Can’t you wish and make it all change into what it should?

Why can’t it?

It is truth
It is exact
It is the plan
It is about faith
It is about trust
It is about loss
It is about devastation
It is about nothing

And how is there nothing left to salvage for the next big adventure?
The footprints of the masses have spoken.
That there is nothing .
There will be nothing
There was nothing.
And so it is nothing...

What must be found is a place.
With no sound
no image
no light
no darkness
no faith
no pain
no breath
no sight
no love
no happiness
no sadness
no joy
no laughter
no anyone
no existence but the comfort of the singular being.
Crawl there and lie down, rest and fold into a ball of hollow mass in the corner of nothingness.
Regret the past
Forget the future
Loath the present
And embrace nothing...