One day all this could be yours

He sees and does not follow:
moves but cannot feel:
Jumps:
but is not cliffside.
seek lucidity
find none
lose the rythm (lost in the rythm?)
Rain beats down on his upturned face, into his burning eyes
sliver of silver pierces the cloud
like the shrapnel of pain in his head
he tries to relearn how to smile, to live
but mostly just fakes it.
Thought there would be solace in vast openness
but, standing alone surrounded by natures monolithic architecture,
there is only emptiness
and a vague sense of awe.
He feels his smallness
:insignificance:
stress tears his fingers to shreds
I try so hard to be 'ok'
to get past the betrayal,
this all-consuming emptiness i own.
Funny how I can attribute substance to emptiness.
I dream (while waking) of neutrinos making delicate lines
the soft pitter-patter of subatomic rain
photoplates of the invisible
I dream of matter occupying different states in simultaneous locations
and it's all so fucking confusing
but it all makes perfect sense.
these days our world is a holograph, projection of
a dimentionless line.
these days I am a holograph.
a sickly projection of someones idea of what
"I"
am
or was
or merely appear to be.
"I"
am lost in the deluge
smashed to a billion to the billionth pieces

these days i fear life and death equally
I find i dread yesterday and tomorrow both

And i know this too shall pass
but lord, does it feel like an eternity coming.