Illuminated by a blank white screen
my reflection. The void staring back at me.
I see the lines on the display, like needles.
that prick my skin, I bleed not blood, but tears.
From my eyes, I scrape the disbelief away.
My heart in blank and my few thoughts,
fraught with frustration, my mind in blank.
As vacant as the bright white screen,
Blank as the sheet I wrote this poem on,
and about as painless as the clean slice
of the paper through and in between my fingers.
One look at my hands and I feel my index finger well up
with anticipation as I pinch the sides. Nothing.
A bloody disappointment, Not even a droplet.
It’s my writing hand that steadily holds the pen.
It remains frozen in place, with nothing to say.
Blank are my thoughts as I read the lines unwritten,
that would send all my happy thoughts to ruination.
Blank as the time before and blank as it was after it happened.
As void and empty as I wish it was after it was said and done.
I wish it could have been that blank like it was before.
and I could pretend that it never happened at all. Forget.
I could carry my vacuous smile when everything was so simple.
I wish to be so blissfully ignorant,
but now I try only to think of blank
Because blank is all I want to think of you.