i am nothing,
and i have always been nothing.
my raw hot-to-the-touch heart tells me i have either seen the creation of the earth or i was born with brand new eyes. there is no in-between.
have i always been this nothing?
was i never the faint, intangible shape of a person that filled up the empty space?
the barely-there figure of something that you could almost make out if you squinted your eyes and turned your head just right?
was i nothing, or was i everything—
a mass of dark matter doomed to overtake all it came in contact with, leaving only a void in its wake.
something all will miss but none will realise is gone.
i was loved, but was i ever known?