Existential Crisis

Oh how I wish that I could be nothing or nowhere. An ethereal cloud. Floating... Without... A worry, a care or a doubt. A meandering, infinite corridor. Yet I embody no room number or floor. Here but not here. No insecurities or fear. Just aimlessly floating to-and-fro. No more hurt, pain or sorrow. Gently flushing loved one's cheeks. While passing through them throughout the weeks... Languidly moving all around. In this new Haven I have found. And months and years go by, Turning into decades, centuries, Yet still am l. This floating shape. This breathless cry. This endlessness. Eternal sigh. Languidly moving all around. In this new Nothing I have found.