“Never to suffer would never to have been blessed.” ― Edgar Allan Poe

My skewed sense of enlightenment came from thinking I could find something past the froth of anxiety, or feel something from the burn of destruction. Perhaps I did, I found that there is nothing to find, and nothing to feel.

I bathe in death of the void nothing. And now I live (if you call this living) and swim in it. I can hardly swim, so I just float. Floating until something happens to drag me out--or until I lose my strength and drown.

Now that I have nothing to hold on to. I ask myself if this is what I wanted.

And the scary part is I think it is. I knew what cheating meant to my soul.

And I'm okay with being soulless? That's frightening.