Blue Voids

It laughs and watches me as I feel its ridicules and demands arising from voids inside myself.

The womb seemed to hold desires I couldn’t identify as entirely my own. They never stop their succession of outpours, masked as fear, sometimes melancholy leaning towards dread, sometimes a giddiness so embarrassing I bow my head to the call.

Sometimes the words outpour to you and sometimes they sink down deep inside these voids and scream obscenities into its own blue abyss. But no answers are given to these pains, not even echoes returned as complimentary.

It feels ravenous, unholy — but I can’t look away. How did I get here? It does not matter, we have arrived to one.