When Nothing Is Something

In a world,
where everything is nothing,
we often like to imagine nothing is something.
Why?
Because we all must pretend.

But why must nothing be something?
Why cant something be nothing?
Are we so desperate,
we must pretend nothing is something?
Do we long to fill the void,
so much,
as to leave ourselves in a world of illusions?

Illusions,
what are we running from?
The truth?
No, thats been said too much.
The lies?
Can we not face the truth?
Is it all just too much?

What is nothing?
Is it when there is nothing but space,
how much does it actually measure out to?
One,
single,
grain of sand?
In a world full of nothing,
how, can nothing be something?
It can't.

In the end,
when nothing is something,
illusions mask what we don't want to know.
In the end,
we are just pretending,
wishing inside that
nothing was something.