VERTIGO

Dear May (Letters from June)

Day 14 : Vertigo

The numb stops us from perceiving,

From connecting.

Perception is key,

If we hope to survive.

But nothing else makes sense,

The dots refuse to connect,

And even darkness rejects.

Pain serves no purpose.

We reach and reach,

out, down, into the abyss of our minds,

Where thoughts lose their form and shape,

And words jumble and tumble into various spatial orientations.

I cannot see, for the life of me,

I cannot see anything that makes the slightest sense.

Survival is key,

But the numb is there, always,

No more than hair's breath away,

And the sense of it all becomes formless,

Till we find ourselves falling,

Down down down.

Or climbing,

Up up up,

Anywhere the abyss goes or leads or pulls.

Vertigo.

Now life loses meaning,

And so does death,

So we simply exist,

And breathe the harsh, hard unbreathable smell of our bodies,

Of our thoughts that have been left to rot,

Now overrun with nothingness.