The value of emptiness is nothing. Or is it?
Keep all your tips, tricks, and never-ending gymnastics. There is no hack for this road back.
When empty, you can be filled again, perhaps made of breath only, a start.
And with light and life.
Or will you be a cave forever, swallowing the world and hope whole and wide?
Who would care enough to go find you if it were to be that—with a torch in hand, plunging to the depth you won't face.
I will do that for you now that I am empty.
I have room for you.
Now.
Torch in hand.