|
I can't stand blank, empty spaces
This book is full of them.
Staring at this very page
Makes me writhe in fear,
Squirm uncomfortably, panic.
An empty piece of paper
Compels me to write, or draw
Or tear it up and discard it.
A minute of silence
Compels me to scream, or sing
Or smash a window, just for the noise
An emotionless heart
Compels me to feel joy, or sorrow
Or feel hatred, enough to kill.
I want to kill the blank spaces
Proof of a wasted life.
|