empty spaces

Empty spaces fill this body
Making it seem more meaning full than it is
Making us think that there is more to us
But what is us?
Are we just a bag of bones?
What of all the mushy things that fill us
What of the muddy aspects of feelings
Empty spaces neatly categorized
Perfectly packed away into neat little boxesq
Boxes that we now fear to open
Fear to open the boxes for what they might contain
Because we filled them so long ago
Filled them with the murky muddy chaos
The chaos that we have known all along
Us really nothing in the long haul
But does that define us as nothing as well