There are empty spaces where your carefully drawn out decorations used to be
Your belongings disappearing slowly but right before my eyes
like the sun in a December sky
Tonight I sat in the empty spaces that were once full
There is a calm in what is empty, a stillness
To be empty is to have nothing
But to have nothing is to once have had something
It is a deceiving predicament, a deceiving quality
The unfilled spaces are not less because they have lost
They renew us through what they have taken away
While reminding us of what stood
And are full of possibilities
There is power in empty spaces.
They are not what they seem.

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