Poem of a Forgotten Voice

Blinking text cursor

Waits for input

Stills as my fingers pause,

As though mocking me.

Why is my mind vibrant with ideas

In the dead of night?

When I've turned off the glowing screens

And surrendered to the heaviness

Of my eyelids, of sleep pulling me under.

Yet, when I stare at the white page

Before my eyes, before my brain,

My mind goes numb.

I want to fill the blank space

With words that form at the edges

Of my gray matter

But falter at my fingertips on the keys.

Where has my spark gone?

The electricity I once had flowing through me

That emptied the rage within

Like a tap to a maple tree.

I used to turn the bullets in my brain

Into sentences spoken out loud,

Or sung out on a melody,

To linger in the air like smoke.

I miss the denial of the past

When the truth didn't eat away

At the momentary hope within.

I wanted to be something more

Than a small voice

Screaming into the universe

To go unheard into the abyss.