a fractured sense of nothing

Another poem I wrote for my journal on wattpad.

There are many parts of me.

A group of characters in a convoluted story no one likes.

A book with no words.

A fractured melody.
Too many instruments to count.
Not so many that counting is unimportant.

The sounds smell beautiful, and the tastes are soft and fluffy, and glow like a rainbow.

A crescendo of meaning, blanketed in a deafening silence.

A contradiction that's also a synonym.

A fractured rhythm
Beating rough, constant, and empty.
Resounding through the empty halls of my mind as I fall into the abyss.

There are no people where everyone has always been.

Everyone else, is just a warped mirror of you.

kindness is hard not to give, and even harder to get.