Pisces

I’m from a place where all things connect.
Ink, what all words and shapes are made up of, the night sky.  
I’m pure like the silence and clean like the television unplugged, blank.    
The deep space, you can’t see it, you can’t hear it.  
What you look for when you feel empty, melancholia.  
The substance, when nothing matters.  
What you use to feel when you're dead inside, the alcohol and drugs.  
What you use to not feel, the pain when you’re alive.    
When everything melts, you lose yourself in this place that is all one world.  
Isolated in this void, where all words lose form.  
There’s nothing to say, cause it’s all lost definition, the picture is gone.  
A place that holds everything, we call it the universe, but we don’t really know what it is.