Unimpressed

And I remain unimpressed.
Talk is cheap, I say. Yes, you can keep up the poetry, if it feeds your expression. I am happy to serve that purpose. I am happy to be that vessel. I will be there to receive it. You must know it flows into and out of me, with little impact. I remain unimpressed. Talk is cheaper than dirt. Energy converted into sound, rolling off the tongue like steam off water boiling. Just vapor, dissipating into nothing. I choose not to collect it, for I know it is not I who is complimented. It is my vastness that holds you. It is my vastness into which you crawl. It is the great space that exists within me that pulls you in and begs you to remain. It is because I do not exist that you are able to find respite. I continue to remain unimpressed. Talk is cheaper than cheap. Leaves no impact on that which does not exist while that which is has no need to be complimented. Space simply is. And I am all too aware of it. It is not my doing. It is not my invention. It is not my product. It is there. Revealed. You bathe in it. You bask in it. You are inspired by it. You compliment me, and I continue to stay unimpressed, for you do not know what it is you're complimenting. You just know the effect of it. I prefer an unspoken acknowledgement that carries no weight, no need, or hunger. I will know when it happens, and I will become even smaller, a tiny speck, while the vastness grows infinitely larger, swallowing you whole into ecstasy.