I feel it slipping, slowly draining, gently fading into the void. There’s a depth to the
expanse that is ever growing in me as my memory loses grip and loneliness takes its stead.
My mind searches frantically for the things I can’t remember, but the pieces can’t find their
place. A word, a name, a sound I don’t know, but I can’t find it all the same.
As the fear of fading away fills me, my mind swirls and spins around in the empty spaces
between memories.
My anxiety builds.
Something calls to me from those empty spaces.
I don’t know how to stop my inevitable implosion into absolute
nothing.
With the steady spreading of decay upon my existence, panic fills my veins as unspoken
words drown my lungs, and memories hemorrhage out of the back of my mind.
The void beats down at the front of my being as purpose vacates its now unfamiliar home.
On the horizon of my failing consciousness, the fear of losing something I can’t remember
mocks me, and knots swirl in my stomach, wrenching a twisting sickness in my soul.
Just beyond the fringes of my being, a memory I can’t recall fills me with dread, and the words
etched upon my heart now fades out of recognition.
The fear of things I can’t remember rises in my chest, and the warmth slowly begins to
fade as the cool hands of nothing stretch out around me.
The flame of my consciousness, once bright and ablaze, now flickers and quivers, and the cogs
of life slow within me. My purpose now forgotten, my will, once unbroken, lay cold and out of
motion at the edge of the void in my mind.
With one foot through the veil, my soul slips quietly into nothing’s cold gravity.
My body withers, and my mind shivers in the winter of my forgotten memories as the lights fade
away, and sorrow abandons its post.
Cold, hollow emptiness wears my bones like a crown, and the void takes its place upon the
throne of my absence.
Time marches on, ever forward, ever brisk.
I begin to fall into nothing, slipping past what I once knew.
Consciousness fades away, and in the darkness, I rest in eternal purposelessness.
Like a dead star, I am cold, and where purpose once stood, linger the echoes of my
humanity, now forgotten in the marching of time.
