Changes of scenery

Phases of my world

Are worlds apart

In the center is

A black hole

A vacuum where

My shouting is

Not heard, not

Taken into account

Void of color and

Of light, a murkiness

That grips my

Throat and keeps

Me from crying out

Where is the boy

Who laughed and

Thought nothing of

Loss and the future

You won’t hear my

Words because I don’t

Have any to offer you

I can’t describe how

Life is different now

The mind is a delicate

Machine, full of paradox

And requiring an upkeep

That I cannot keep up