Empty Vessels


Reaching out, and reaching in.

Find the edges, find the rim.

Take a look inside

and find

another empty vessel.

Touch is just a link to this,

like the wind brings the rain

to kiss the parched lips of her.

Alleviate the pain.

Soon she will be past her banks.

Sensation, an all-consuming river.

Salvation, yet again becomes

another fresh assailant.

Who is she

to wish

that she was full?

Picking up

the dross and discards.

Filling her head with shit

and heart with scars.

Soon, she’s searching for a way

to feel empty.

“Clean” and “New”

become trigger words,

and she wishes she

could start all over.

She once yearned for the touch,

the knowledge of everything.

This is why

she’s become obsessed

with row upon row

of empty jars and bottles.

Colored glass that catches sunlight,

that she might

fill with her elixir.

Siphon out her

spirit until she is again empty.


her consciousness to the cloud,

and leave

another hollow, vacant vessel.

Ready to be displayed,

clean, and proud

when the rain comes down.

A fascination

with how

the circle comes around.

Life, knowledge, and innocence

from the sky

into the ground.



DJR – 2023

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