I'm in a rush and I must get past this feeling that's been stealing all the thunder and the lightning from the storms. I'm not used to staring at gray skies for so long without a drop of rain just the dull pain or the numb that comes from not wanting to burn or yearn. I'm filled with empty but it's thick and heavy; how can nothing stop something from occupying this space. It's a waste. Something died but wasn't buried. Something reeks of bleak. Searched every corner of my soul for the decay but the empty blocks my way.
