Nothing But Nothing

Black
Black as night
Black as the dark shadows in my black mind
Black as a blind man's hatred of his vision
Who hates nothing more than blackness.
Who sees little else
Black
Black as death.
Putrefied, abysmal, repungently repulsive, vile death.
Black as my horror of knowing
Who and What I am.
Of knowing what I have done.
Of what I must do and why
Black as the detached loneliness and solitude
Of being unique in my understanding of myself.
Of being solely responsible for myself and my pain
Black as my heart when I reflect on my bitter life.
Total, utter darkness
There are no lights, no tunnels. No hope.
All is lost. Gone. There is nothing there at all.
Only the complete, overwhelming blackness of emptiness & silence.
Silence is my blackest friend.
I have but one friend.