Nothing or Something

It's never nothing.

Nothing is always something.

Unless that nothingness is

death, but isn't death even

something? Maybe this something

is really nothing and nothing is

really something. Even though

I say nothing, that nothing is really

something that's you.

The Crack in the Ceiling

Lying there, helpless of any rational thought

process after those words slingshot through

my mind. My stare ripped from brown deadpan

eyes glazed with concern. The crack in the ceiling

slices through the plain, white room decorated

with novels (a mark of your intelligence), and

picture frames of moments passed. I can't help

but realize I can't possibly be good enough for

you. I stop, realizing i've been staring off. But the

thought of not being with you seems irrational and

we continue to lie there as you speak of the

nothingness of death and i listen to the rain

drown the romanticizing ideas of 'us'.