A Kind of Nothing

He told me to write.
“Write about nothing.” He said.
The kind of nothing that matters.
The kind of nothing you worry about.
The kind of nothing that plagues your dreams.
The kind of nothing that feeds off of your soul.
The kind of nothing that makes you weak.
The kind of nothing that makes you scream.
The kind of nothing that makes you bleed.
The kind of nothing that makes you, you.
For in doing so, you may well find that it counts.
“Yes” He said. “Your nothing counts for something.”

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2 Comments

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2 responses to “A Kind of Nothing

  1. I like this strong and well-thought-out poem.

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