What is this hole that I keep falling into?
I am not even sure it is a hole
for I have never touched the bottom
or its walls.
I call it a hole only because
it is something I keep falling into.
Sometimes I am laughing before I fall
sometimes, I’m crying soundlessly.
I scream sometimes
But the hole sucks up the sound.
I scream for help, but nobody hears, nobody answers
Except for the echoes that deafen my ears.
I try to cry, I want them to see my tears
But my eyes are dry and nobody looks into them.
But most times, I scream
Because it is a hole that I keep falling into.
Sometimes it forms underneath me
Sometimes in front, or it is just there
all around me.
Sometimes I can see myself falling
Perched on the edge, I peer into the hole
I sob and reach out a hand to myself,
and look into my terrified eyes as I fall.
It is dark and black and vast and deep
so deep that I just keep falling without end
while looking at my flailing hands and feet
and feeling the fall in my stomach.
Sometimes I dig my nails into these walls of darkness
And scrape and cling and fight and scramble up.
But the edge is slippery and I slither and slide
and fall again.
But now it is enough, it is too much,
I want the falling to stop somewhere, at some point,
I want to feel the thud of my body as it hits the bottom
I want to hear the whoosh of my lungs collapsing
I want to hug the warmth of flowing blood
I want to be there to wish goodbye to myself as I ebb away.
Hah, I want this, I want that, as though it is my choice.
Is this what they call an abyss? A void? A chasm?
But these sound so finite, so the must end somewhere.
There is a rock on my chest, a stone tied to my feet.
And just darkness, just something,
Just nothing – that I keep falling into.
Sundar Viswam is a writer and blogs for his own website www.mynuscript.com and his FB page @sundarwrites. He tweets at @viswamsundar.