Saturday, March 10, 2012

writer's block

Blank page, blank slate.
Try to tell myself that
empty can be good if you let it

Fill
with something real.

Not mere
vowels and consonants
hung together by accentuation and punctuation
and pause

Forming complete thoughts
which are
completely and utterly separate
from who you are.

No.

I will delve into this
void until I uncover
meaning.
'Til from the darkness
bursts glorious
light, gleaming.

Oh, black hole you
will not swallow me whole.
You may take my body but you
can never have my soul.

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