On empty

I have poured out
every
little
scrap of
myself,

have been witty,
have been wry,
have been honest,
have discrete,

have exercised my brain,
loved,
flung arms wide,
waited still in silence,
laughed from the heart,
and from the will,

have done chit-chat,
asked searching questions,
empathised, sympathised and dramatised,

remembered formulae,
offered a chocolate Father Christmas and reindeer,
written stories in the margins,
made air time for experts,

and now I gaze into space,
and wait for myself,
to return.