Inside Out

And then there was nothing.
And it was worse than before.
Carefully articulated nothings.
And disaffected somethings.
As if nothing could ever work.

And then there was a dream.
Brilliant, bright, illuminating mirror.
A dream, it would seem, would be
to feel all that can't be felt.
As if nothing would ever work.

And while we're talking,
let's not forget to mention
The Sky.
Infinite, infinite, empty.
As if nothing could ever work.