
My Dearest Blank Page,
Why must you torment me?
Each morning, I sit before you,
So excited, so full of hope.
I want to tell you my stories,
Fill your emptiness,
Create something meaningful together.
And all I ever get in return is that vacant stare.
Emotionless.
Blank, as they say.
How can such a clean slate come with so much baggage?
You make me feel inadequate;
Constantly, silently staring,
Giving me none of the inspiration I need to fuel my desire.
You just take and take.
You take my time.
You take my confidence.
But the one thing you never take is my words.
All I ever wanted was to dress you up, my love;
Cover you in colorful prose,
Glittering words shining light on stories untold.
And then, I would be more than happy to share you.
I’d show the world our unique creation.
Make them think,
Make them smile.
But now I know it’s no use.
You say I’m blocked.
I say you’re too intimidating.
You say I don’t appreciate you as you are.
I say you don’t support my dreams.
You see, my love, there is nothing here to Save.
I hope you understand.
I think it’s time to Quit you.
Signing off,
Forever Your Scribe
About the Creator
Kristin Woodward
Storyteller | Truth Seeker | Coffee Drinker
Works: www.kristinwoodward.com
Writes: www.peachesandpoppycock.com
Snaps: www.instagram.com/kristinwoodward
Atlanta, Georgia
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.