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May 24, 2012

The weight of the truth crushes the breath from my lungs. Its presence lingered in the back of my mind for so long becoming just another cobweb overlooked in the corner. The buzz of its existence nothing more than white noise, so easy to ignore, as I basked in the false sun of delusion and pride.

But now there is nothing.

The final tear pools with the others at my side. The final breath whispers away as the last beat echoes, then fades.

And still it pushes, grinding me until there is only dust, specks of nothing left to the whimsy of the breeze, scattered to the four corners where no one will remember what used to be, or what should have been.

There is nothing.

No expectations. No preconceptions. No predestination.

There is nothing left,

but possibilities.

23 Comments leave one →
  1. May 24, 2012 12:24 PM

    The last line grants an air of hopefulness to this.

  2. May 24, 2012 12:30 PM

    I’m with Icy, it was sad right up to the last two words!

  3. May 24, 2012 4:07 PM

    Nothing is really something.

    I hope you write poetry as well – and if not, I really think you should.

    You have an artful way in arranging words with rhythm and conveying feeling through them.

  4. May 24, 2012 6:03 PM

    That last line is a lot more hopeful than the rest. Lovely poem.

  5. May 24, 2012 9:29 PM

    Alright, angry narrator – but what possibilities? What will you do with them now that everything else is stripped away?

  6. May 25, 2012 12:35 AM

    Potentia out of nullity. I really liked this, but then I’m a nihilist myself!

  7. May 25, 2012 1:52 AM

    I think you have managed to convey a truth, and for prose, in a very poetic way. I have to say I’m with the others – you could easily turn your hand to poetry, especially some of the modern unstructured forms which read very much like prose.

    When you hit rock bottom, and everything you rely on both inside and outside yourself is stripped away, it is devastating at first, but then comes a clarity of vision because there is nothing left to cloud it, and you can see all the way from the bottom of your hole to the sky.

    Nicely done Danni.

  8. May 25, 2012 3:36 AM

    Last line gave me chills. Up until then, I’d been in this person’s head – that feeling of emptiness and sense of what “what do I do now”. But then BAM, you answer it with the only truth there is “whatever you want.” Beautiful and powerful.

  9. May 25, 2012 5:05 AM

    I got the feeling that the person in this piece is letting their old self die and a new self take form. Good work.

  10. May 25, 2012 5:36 AM

    This is beautiful, and I agree with everyone else, you should write poetry!

  11. May 25, 2012 8:22 AM

    Yes, I liked the bit of hope at the end. So many of my stories have unhappy endings. =)

  12. May 25, 2012 12:44 PM

    Beautifully poetic prose, evocative, thought provoking, profound.

  13. adampb permalink
    May 25, 2012 3:54 PM

    Sometimes it’s the possibilities that bring us the most hope. Lovely imagery.
    Adam B @revhappiness

  14. May 25, 2012 6:13 PM

    Nice one. At the risk of sounding flippant, those last two words are really something. A great, unexpected finish.

  15. May 26, 2012 4:35 AM

    Hey Danni,
    Haunting, emotional and well written as usual. Congrats on getting so much emotion into such a short piece.

  16. May 26, 2012 8:38 AM

    Beautifully written piece here. Love the visceral nature of the emotions.

  17. May 27, 2012 6:08 AM

    Loved it, Danni. I’m beginning to run out of ways to say how good these are. šŸ™‚

  18. May 27, 2012 5:19 PM

    I’ve been there…quite recently actually, and you’ve captured it so well. Hopelessness…and then a spark of hope. Very nice.

  19. May 27, 2012 9:42 PM

    *stands and claps*

  20. May 28, 2012 4:10 PM

    It felt such a sombre piece until the last line then it all changed in a heartbeat. Nicely twisted ending šŸ™‚

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