hannah jang

now we're here again

right back at the common again

I sit blank-spaced laboured

and I cannot think of one thing else

 other than what the hell I am supposed to do

I've thought once that crying

 weeping, grieving

might change a thing or two 
but I can't even sweat a tear
neither can I feel anything at all

I don't feel half of what you're going through

when there is no more words even left to say

when there is nothing left to feel, no more anything - 

not even a remnant.