^{March 21, 2024}

If I am empty,

am I air?

Is the wind able to take me away 

And ripple me along the glittering surface of the water?

Am I able to fly high up in the air like a lost leaf? 

When I drop, do I flutter? 

Do I spin and flail around,

Helplessly trying to get some form of stability, 

Or do I suddenly crash into the ground? 

When I get there, do I bounce? 

Or do I shatter? 

Am I a vacuum?

Greedily clinging to the essence of something,

Anything, 

Ready to consume? 

If I am empty, am I nothing?

Even nothing has a name. 

I’m not nothing.

Nothing has no value, no presence. 

I guess that makes me something, 

But being something comes with expectations. 

I don’t wanna be something. 

I am empty,

And I want to be air.

I want to be the wings that carry my spirit into a beautiful sunset, 

Light enough to dance with cherry blossom petals. 

I want to be the empty space of silence that fills a mind,

A heart, 

A body, 

Giving me a moment of peace. 

I want to be as empty as the space in the expanding universe,

Giving me room to grow.