introspection of nothingness

what is it that damages the most

tis the mind turning like stones over and over

 the ruinations of others infections from such unconcerned damnations of all others

 which then visits upon this one like a knife at first puncturing slowly then going deeper

 ripping more than flesh more than bone

 ripping into the inner circle of the hopes that trust was born

perhaps the crude sharp metal

 has finally hit the very essence 

that no one even knew was just born

perhaps this is the final straw

 that was so heavy

 not even summer harsh breezes could send it away

like a cat pawing at its prey playful 

enjoying only its own senses

 oblivious to the life within its object of attention

how to let now all that has descended

 not eat alive in hungry consumation

 this tender essence that was,

 who knows if still is,

 a cosmic sensation indescribable 

with any puny human words

what if this time

 the center is torn wide open

 and left to bleed completely out

alas all matter 

never really did matter

 not so for some

 the I-guesses tis true

stunned with nothing left to give

not even movement of any kind would now assist

the sinking down down down into the abyss

finds more pain than any grip

and maybe this time

 nothingness will even have any power to stop this descent

past desperation

 beyond 

and deeper

 than aching reaching

 the free fall may well be forever

and the writings on the darkest walls of this deep black hole

tell of far too many losses than any soul alone could forbear

not even the chanting voices from above singing out the unfairs

nor the promises all so vaguely broken in shattering shards

snag the essence

 to stop its winding fluttering descent

 into this the abyss

nothingness now would be so welcome

yet indeed this might be the very worst

no imagination could have ever conjured up

not even the I can save this

when all human senses fall away

when not even the distant feeling comes this way

the long awaited once seen warmth of totality

can not even be envisioned in a wish

it simply was that is that was not that never became that could but for not

 how is it that there is no outward caring from which to reach even the small finger tip extended now from this that may well have lost all grip

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