Schizophrenic Poems, Short Stories, and Thoughts

There was a tear in her eye, but her face showed no other particular signs of expression. She smiled, and said, “I love you.” right before the gun went off…swirling nothingness, distances that seem endless. Off into some existence that speaks of not. Wretched and impure, this place seems hollow of time. Secluded in an infinite void, we sink into the dankness of torment.
Hello…echos bounce off an encompassing haze. Every breath or sigh dances all around. “Where am I?” Nothing, just nothing, endless hours of nothing but this haze. I could walk forever in the cold reality of this haze. As timeless as it seems fake, this absence is the opposition of thought. I can’t see anything ahead of me.
I could walk for hours in this infinite void. Opposing thought, reclusive times brought to a finite conclusion. There is nothing more to be seen. We are nothing but the encompassing components filling a space.