What is that you were given? I mean from the loss. After. what was taken. That very thing you could never live without. The person or place; the secret, or circumstance - now that it is gone, or has bee found out, and you can no longer call it foundation, what is it that you were given?
You know, and I know, this: there is a hollowing out. Sometimes comes and opens you up right down the middle and from that moment on you are no longer immune to this world.
You wake, you wander, every familiar, now a foreign. You walk as through water until you make it back to your bed and finally, even there- your sheets; your own pillow's scent different, as if daily someone repaints your room, displaces something, disturbs a cherished memento.
You see, sometimes we are emptied. We are emptied because Life wants us to know
― 'What Is It That You Were Given?' © 2006 Em Claire