The blank page of opportunity,
Ever glaring, ever begging
For my mind to supply its diet,
To keep it full of creative lines.
However, its pleas are lost on me,
Its siren call screeching in fear
As it realizes that perhaps now
My mind has abandoned us both.
Like this blank page and blinking cursor,
I too am glaring, begging it
To cut off the alarm bells and sirens
And go back to days where I could flow.
My words were like water running out,
Steadily filling any page,
And holding the breath of any peer,
Quieting the pain of my heart.
However, as my heart heals and mends,
It seems that my mind has packed up,
No longer whispering quiet words
But instead leaving me to screams.
Now as I stare at this pleading page,
I wonder if those words are gone,
Hidden behind the panicked breathing,
Or just as I am- lost.
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