VACUUMS

I fell into a black hole,
silent, utterly sucking of my light,
so far from home, but in my bedroom,
a hollowed morgue of insipid dementia,
bleeding the last of my heart
across the bedspread
where love fled ages ago.

Marrow buried under sob soaked sheets,
shrouded in the doomsday plight over my soul,
lifeless, torn to shreds from this vacuumed flight
into this macabre chasm of suffocating sorrow,
maddening mayhem from the menace of loneliness.

In the swirling angst
spinning a tornado of melancholy within my soul,
completely abandoned, passion’s leper,
curse of body to live without another caress,
slipping every day farther down the chute
upon the ash heap of my ruination.

When nothing was left of my spirit,
dried up pruned trapped in an endless void,
there was unfamiliar kiss upon my thoughts,
opening a trap door in my head
unto a world I didn’t know existed.

Finding in that pitch black gulf
not the dire quintessence of despair,
but the missing pieces of my being
those images that spoke to me in dreams
took possession in that night,
until I became whole for the very first time.

Able to build a ladder with their help,
sometimes in the worse vacancy
comes an unexpected filling.