The Void

They stole from us, but we are richer for it
The insecurity—the pain of violation—runs so deeply
We fear we cannot escape
The void
That was their betrayal, but lives now in us
Though they have long since gone and died
The void
They gave us and have now escaped
But we, too, can escape, and live on
If we let our wounds heal and
Fill the void with love
So as not to steal from others to repair ourselves

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