empty

arches architecture art baroque
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

my windows are clean
and my threshold is bare

long-still feelings have been disturbed in the frantic dusting,
coming up in clouds

memories i didn’t even know i cherished
echo around the place
that is now just empty enough for me to notice them

~

it’s been a long time since i acknowledged
just how empty life has become

i don’t miss anything

but i do miss everything

~

it is so bright here

lights are being shone on places that i’ve never seen before
behind where the sofa was and such

there are no piles of soft accumulation left to provide comfort
against the incomprehensibility of reality, anymore

our lives are everything that happens to us in relation to other people
and a home is no refuge when there is nothing to seek refuge from except one’s own self

~

this place has been my home
and i know that i will never come back

the circumstances are a mask i have no choice but to wear

i do grieve for this place
but only because the part of me that lived here, is gone

~

i am leaving behind two homes

both have formed me
and neither ask for anything in return

except that i find the courage to look upon them now
in their emptiness

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