Into the black

Vacant eyes
Betraying no story,;
Unmoving lips
Telling no tales;
Guarded heart
Holding void;
Closed ears
Oblivious to the noise;
Jammed mind
Containing the traffic of transitory thoughts.
And yet you ask how I am
I know not.
I drag myself through the day
Carrying this emptiness
Of thought
Of intention
Of paths
as black and vast as the sky.
I feel its weight
stiffling me
in the most subtle ways
unknown to all
but me.
You ask again how I am
I know not.
I am not broken pastels
Nor I am a scarred heart.
I feel no pain
I feel no regrets
I feel no appetite for desires
Worst of all,
I feel empty.
Today, I am no galaxy of stars
or a valley of fragrant flowers.
I am a piece
of flesh and bones,
and a heart
Empty enough to fill the pages with poetry.