the void

✨poetry(ish) corner🦴

They don’t think.
They slide.

One minute they’re laughing along, the next they’re frowning — whatever the nearest voice is doing.

There’s no calculation.
No craft.

It’s just a current they let carry them, curling around obstacles like plastic bags in a gutter, shaping themselves to whatever surface comes first. Never shaping the surface. Never even trying.

It’s not that they believe in nothing.
It’s that they believe in anything — if it’s trending.

But I believe in cause and effect. I believe in choices. I believe you know exactly what you’re doing. You have power. Every smile you flash, every silence you keep, every swivel toward the person most likely to make you look important — that’s a move.

The void is their hobby.
Can a human be hollow clear through?

I have watched them swap allegiances mid-sentence. Faces sparkling for whoever has more money, more followers, more shine, while the person they swore to adore stands half a foot away, invisible.

It’s not survival. It’s muscle memory.

Their personality is a rental property — staged for whoever’s touring today. Rugs vacuumed. Lighting warm. The faint, false scent of something just baked. But peek under the cushions and there’s only dust, a few crumbs, the echo of whoever stood here last.

Choice is a mirror.
They keep the lights off.

They call it kindness. Diplomacy. Staying “above the drama.”
But it’s worship. Worship of approval.
The safety of never taking a stand.
The cowardice of sanding down every edge that might cut them on their way to being liked.

And maybe they are liked.
But not by me.
Not by anyone paying attention.

If you have no backbone,
I have no use for you.

If you have no spine,
you have no self.

And if you have no self,
I already know what you’ll become.

If you made it this far, click that itty-bitty digital organ! ❤️