and here I thought there was nothing.
No space between words in which I could exist

well i'm gonna try to those critique boxes

What i love about your work, is the feeling of infinite, or more of a lingering emotion in the aftermath. The end is a morbid shout that decays from illusory walls
(i tend to imagine hearing what i read lol)

The thing is, i know what you're talking about, but a feeling tells me there is more.. there is more..

The whole poem in itself is peculiar, we all wait for an end, or more of a conclusion to reveal what is between the lines, but even thou we have a taste, there is more .. there is more.. That's the beauty of your last words. You manage to elaborate an unclear state of mind which somehow, throws it in a mysterious and skeptic morbid thought, a not fully unveiled truth... at least that's what i feel . which is greatly positive (And . that way, i'm glad to know, and glad not to)