"Unspoken echoes within my sou

What Next? What next? Life leans at the door like it's death silent, steady, as if it's always been there, watching. What next? Purpose hides in the shadows, ashamed to be seen, a secret it doesn't want to share, a name it forgot how to say. Truly empty thoughts crowd my mind beside ideas bursting at the seams quiet chaos, a storm without thunder. These are the stages I don't want to bear: large and loud, scary and hollow, full of teeth, but still hungry. I cry without reason, I smile without cause tearsome and sad, happy and love, like mood swings served as meals. What next? I ask, not for answers, but to hear the echo proof that I'm still here, still asking.