What Is It All About? Poem by Blakeney-rose Berry

Each breath an aberration, a wrinkle in the seamless cloth of nonexistence.
The touch of sunlight, a harsh reminder of warmth long lost,
Shadows of memories, so vague, they seem borrowed,
Yet they anchor, drag down, tethering to an unasked past.
In the wake of forever I am torn, frayed beyond repair,
I will seek solidarity, nothing more than sowing sorrow.

There's a quiet in the marrow, deep and unsettling soul,
A resonance with the hollowness of forgotten chambers,
Taste of salt, not from tears, but the ancient seas of primal fears,
Each heartbeat, not a celebration of life, but a protest against the void.
Each breath a retaliatory slur on unfeeling nature, they won't bury,
Each thought a tapestry of protests in a weave of pointlessness.

Glimpses of joy, like mirages, distort under scrutiny, self love,
Melting away, leaving just the vast barrenness of what's truly felt,
In the silent spaces between thought, profound despair lingers,
The relentless gravity of emotions best left untouched, but ever present.
By the flip a coin I remain, it this mere chance I take,
Yet nagging questions remain for the truth or is all in vain.