Blankness

I have never written a poem like this...so lemme know what you think!

Its not really when you feel sad. 

Or even when you feel angry.

To be honest...I'm not quite sure what it is, but I know its there. 

It's not the weight of the world or the random sobbing.

Or the hatred and irritation to those around you. 

It's the blankness. 

The blankness when you sit there and stare at a wall

And one moment you are laughing, smiling but then...

You feel your mind slipping away, and your thoughts disappear, and your feelings with it

And your friends and family beg you to speak, to eat, to sleep, but you can't because you don't feel you need it. 

 

It's the blankness. 

 

Its the feeling of not even realizing you feel numb, until the second when you realize you aren't laughing at something you used to cry happiness over. 

 

It's the dread of doing something you once spent every waking hour wishing to do. 

 

It's the blankness. 

 

It's the feeling of every little touch, every word amplified into a screaming, searing sound that you want to slap every helping hand away. 

 

And it's when you do, that you feel guilty. 

 

It's the blankness. 

 

It's not depression, or anger, or suicidal thoughts. 

 

It's the blankness, the emptiness, the confusion of fog. 

 

 

It's the blankness that controls us all. 

Author's Note

Favorite line? Please review! Thanks for reading!

Reviews

[Roger Turgeon]

I was recently informed that a blank mind is essential for poetry and here you expose yours.

[Roger Turgeon]

Someone said the opposite of love isn't hate but apathy. I had a sense of apathy in this poem.

[Wolfwind]

OMG! This was awesome! "The Blankness" is perfectly accurate to what I experience. I never feel the extreme emotions of depression or anything like that.... but the complete blankness that happens... a perfect neutral of the mind the universe and everything. No motion, just a hum that washes out everything else.

I loved this poem! Great Ink!
Aaron - Wolfwind

[~L.A.]

I love it, very structured. Describes the inner pain that almost each and everyone of us holds somewhere inside of us.