Julia Hopp is a native Hoosier, having been born and raised in Indianapolis. She has lived in Nicaragua, the Philippines, Detroit, and has settled in Atlanta. She is an avid traveler, a seeker of all things that honor a life lived with an open heart, and a self-proclaimed coffee snob.

Way down deep in my chest
Where the voices go to die
Lies a certain open space
A void, devoid of light.

Where no feelings dare to tread
No love, no warmth, no light
And if you travel there
It would be as black as night.

You’d listen for a sound
Maybe reach to feel the walls
As you fumble through the darkness
Careful steps so you don’t fall.

But alas it is too late
Because once you’ve fallen in
The horrors parade past
And don’t they EVER cause a din.

In this absence in your chest
You will see a vast parade
Of the things you wish for most
That you’ll never see again.

You’ll reach for them and watch
As the thing you try to touch
Flows past fingers like smoke
These illusions made from dust.

Next you’ll spin in circles
Just trying to escape
There are no exit signs around
To help one navigate.

You’ll yell into the void
Why is this my fate to live
In the absence of my dreams
And a pain I can’t forgive.

You surrender all your hope,
Crash to your knees, unwound
The hollow opens up again
And you have come unbound.

The secret to the hollow is
It only lets you leave
When you lean into the absence
When you truly learn to grieve.

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  • Timmoye says:

    What an awesome way to capture grief. We walk this walk together so the dark is a little lighter, hands holding pinky fingers supporting each other.

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