blissful void.

she walks past, not knowing what to say or how to feel. she walks past, trying to remember if all the smiles were real. she walks past, mixed emotions erupting inside. she walks past, not sure if she should hide. the walk has passed, with relenting thoughts. the walk has passed, with everything seemingly lost. the irony. the contradiction. the definite uncertainty. the blissful void. and when the past has passed, theres an empty crowd of feeling and intuition lost among the binds of yesterday. the end of the night will inescapably bring about the light of the next day...but has yesterday really gone? only God knows.