Through a crack in the wall, 

I see nothing. 

I hear a faint swirl of mutters and creaks and nothing. 

I sense a fear,

From me or the crack in the wall?

From me.


Eye to the hole, 

I stare and stare,

But nothing is nothing is nothing. 

I see nothing,

I hear nothing,

I sense nothing. 


Yet when I am far from the crack in the wall,

I see it,

I hear it,

I sense it. 


The crack in the wall is made up of nothing,

Yet it makes me feel the most of everything. 

I am it. 

Which makes me nothing.