Sadness: The Void I Carry Within

This is not an empty body. It is a body that learned how to live without what once filled it.

Inside, there is no damage, no violence, no visible wound— only space.

The hollow does not echo. It does not ask to be filled. It simply exists, carried from moment to moment like a second weight.

What is missing is not hidden. It is centered. Defined by its absence.

This void is not weakness. It is endurance. The quiet discipline of continuing while holding something that cannot be replaced.

I do not carry memories here. I carry their outline. The shape they left behind.

And every breath moves around it, careful not to disturb what has already settled into silence.