By Kshitij Verma, Contributor
My sorrows have been “nothing”
my happiness has been “nothing”
“nothing” may seem blank, empty
but I see that even things which seem blank are something.
“Nothing” is like silence
it can be deafening and
leaves me in a place with myself, alone.
To be “nothing.”
When I feel nothing, I get overwhelmed,
seeing everything coming all at once.
I feel burdened by the weights that weigh nothing
though, when asked, I reply with, “nothing.”
I might feel blank, but don’t even canvases seem blank at first
some days, in the empty pages, I still search
because emptiness pokes after a while
When I feel nothing inside, I see the things outside and try filling the void.
But lately I have stopped looking outside as the things outside
seem emptier than me.
