NOTHING.

Nothing.
Nothing.

I saw nothing.

I have done everything to understand nothing.

I won the race that had no prize from the start. A waste of time.

Time. 
Time.

Everyone’s desperately grasping for as much of it as they can. A non-renewable resource that all concepts living or dead depend on. 

There’s never enough, they say. There’s never enough. The well is running dry.

And yet I'm drowning.

Drowning.
Drowning.

It crashes over me in waves unrelentingly. 

Which way is up and which way is down? I’ve tried both directions and yet there is no salvation.

No surface.
No seafloor.

I hold my breath so desperately. I cry and flail as I feel suffocation closing in.

This is the end.
This is the end.

I chant it to myself like a prayer. 

My one last shred of hope. An ending to this story. 

Exposition.
Rising Action.
Climax.
Falling Action.

It’s all here. Isn’t it? That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?

I gave it to you and yet you still won’t give me what I need.

Resolution.
Resolution.
Resolution.
Resolution.
Resolution.

But of course, in the end?, I will not drown.

For you cannot drown that who was born with no lungs.