They say nothing lasts forever.
Everything fades, disappears with time—like the last light of day, like a dream after waking.
But if “nothing” is the only thing that can last forever,
then let me be your “nothing.”
I don’t need to be everything in your life.
Not the blazing sun, not the wind that carries you far.
I just want to be something quiet, nameless—yet always there.
Like the pause between words, the breath in the night,
a fleeting thought that never truly leaves.
If you have everything, I’ll be what’s left.
If you lose everything, I’ll be what remains.
I’ll be “nothing,” but still yours.
A presence that doesn’t need a name,
doesn’t need proof—only to exist
in your heart, in your memory,
in the things you can’t explain.
And if one day you ask,
“Does anything last forever?”
I’ll smile and say,
“Yes. ‘Nothing’ does—and me, within you.”
