Empty room
Stripped mattress
Empty shelves
Clear walls
Spotless floors.

Pumping bass
in my ears;
a song
on repeat.


Freed ears
Freed mind.


Grey skies.

Plane above.

Empty courtyard.

Beeping cars.

My thoughts
become the lyrics.

My feelings
become the melody.

My doubts
become the key.

And my hopes
the bridge.


This poem is based on a blog post I recently read on Medium, entitled ‘The Most Important Skill Nobody Taught You’ as well as the silence that came with ‘move-out day’ at my accommodation.

“When you surround yourself with moments of solitude and stillness, you become intimately familiar with your environment in a way that forced stimulation doesn’t allow”.

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