I stay up all night because that's the only time I'm truly awake. The only time that I fully acknowledge the pressing issues I have ignored as long as possible, and by acknowledging these things, I am slowly consumed by unending unsureness.

There's a gaping black hole at the end of every day; slowly sucking away any threads of hope for a future or purposeful existence that I've weaved while doing the day walk. Moving through the motions, efficient like a machine. I click and clack along at a steady pace, working first and thinking later.

It all unwinds.

I experience the same feelings of dread, anxiety, fear, shit terror and blind hopefulness everyday. Re-hash old material, because I can't think of anything new.

That black hole, it sits at the end of my bed. There's no where else to look, your eyes can't avoid being drawn into the center of Nothing.
Staring makes it worse.
Security and ambition get sucked into the hungry, gaping mouth and I feel myself falling further away from my body/physical connection, and I'm swimming down below the surface, in a place that no one can reach me.

A hand moves to comfort the shell, an attempt at a loving embrace meant to encourage feelings of warmth and protection
a pleading voice says "But you mean everything to me"

and it's so far away, I can barely hear it. I feel a heavy lump on my chest, far above me,
and I wonder, "Who or what matters to me?"

I would feel guilty, but I can't feel anything.