the void pulses

my days are
a series of empty parking lots
and apologies
for things out of my control
raging anxiety
and an ease of dismissal
that borders on
the obscene

my nights are
dissecting every word spoken
as i shrink
falling between molecules
to vanish among the quarks
subatomic particulates
quivering uselessly
beneath notice

there is a tremor
in my hands from the icy wind
a quaver in my voice
from an overabundance of emotion
i bleed ink
in rivulets of remorseless black
from a thousand paper cuts
across my atrophied soul

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