In the arms of nothingness (Marcella Boccia)

I lay myself down in the arms of nothingness,where shadows breathe like lovers,and silence carves its name into my soul.The void holds me close,its cold fingers trailing along my spine,each touch a whisper of the world undone.No stars hang in the sky,no moon to guide my sorrow,only the weight of empty promisesthat echo through the chambers of my heart.I have forgotten what it means to dreamand yet, I dream in the dark.The earth beneath me is a grave,and I, a wanderer lost within my own skin,searching for a voice in the whispers of ghosts.The night speaks in riddles,its tongue sharp and broken,teaching me the language of the unspoken.In the arms of nothingness,I am both lost and found,drowning in the silence that blooms like a flowerwithout petals, without roots.There is no escape from the hollow inside me,no refuge from the echoes that hunger for release.And yet, I remain—a flicker of somethingcaught between the suffocating breath of the voidand the fading light of the world I left behind.I am not dead, not yet alive—just a heartbeat in the arms of nothingness,waiting for the momentwhen I will be nothing at all.