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The End

June 28, 2012
By baileysul PLATINUM, Guilford, Connecticut
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baileysul PLATINUM, Guilford, Connecticut
26 articles 2 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." -Ernest Hemingway

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the nothing stumbled:
a fawn rising on a 
blustery day (Winds-day) but then it
exploded into

a nothing sound, a nothing
feeling
the nothing is thick and
clings to your skin like
itchy fibers in sweltering twilight 
and not even a knife can
puncture its humid
and sticky particles

adhering to space.
we thought nothing would 
never happen, but now
the empty sky is black and
the gleaming electric sun
only lights the dark beaten path
and silence- 

now nothing
prevails.

© Josh W., Peoria, AZ

The author's comments:
What inspired me to write this poem: honestly, the inspiration came from the last poem I posted (In Between Spaces). I began thinking about modernism, thinking about how we can just be gone in a blink of an eye, how we create what we see, how we're nothing in comparison to everything.
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