Empty Now

Nothing inspired and nothing expressed.
Time stops as a vacuum forms inside.
It envelopes the universe.
Breathing, I recall, creates movement. I notice I can’t move;
can’t return,
can’t go beyond.
This stillness holds no memories, no future plans.
Just now.
This empty now.
An electric fan whirring finds my ears and notes from the radio seem to drop
one
by
one
as unrelated events.
I listen for lost heart songs once made of memories and future plans.
The fan again.
It seems so loud just now.
In this now.
This empty, empty now.