Bereft

Descriptions of the void
Of the emptiness that
fills up the space from whence
there was unbelieving happiness.

Once so easy to articulate,
Now the pen hovers in the air.
desperately searching for the proper words
that seem naught to exist.

For nights that stretch into the next,
I've sat, with my eyes upon my skin,
praying for the lines of blood
to replace the void that remains locked within.

Written in ink,
or smeared in blood.
Words simply no longer can express.
I'm standing at a wall
I'm looking over the cliff edge

Praying,
that it ends.