Blank Paper

Blank Paper… something about it makes my sense wake from their temporary sleep. The way it begs to be filled with expression, feelings, love notes. All of the busy thoughts poured out onto paper. The things that matter for the moment; dripping out as ink.

Looking back at all of the many pages I have filled with scribbles, my thoughts organized into symbols.

Fiction with ulterior motives. Love letters in a story. Rose and Violet dance on paper, hidden away where none can see.

Slashing bodies of vengeance and wrath, screaming demons to haunt their thoughtless minds. Conjured by the spell of pen on paper. Your darkest fears given life. Embodiment of human pain, flesh eating butterflies covering nude bodies, tamed by the spell of words.

Blond hair, pale skin, dark thoughts, deep feelings. Not at all in control of her feelings, but aware of them all. Knowing emotions most will never feel takes strength. The weight of the world dangling from the chain on her neck.

My black and white thoughts pour onto paper in color, and artist's brush colors the pages in invisible strokes. Let me slip away into my alternate reality, pulling your image in with me to distort. Pulling your shape through the world of my thought. Your figure covered in opulent riches, gold woven dresses, dark violet gowns and rose colored gems.

An orchestra plays silent music below the stage, the lights shine bright in your eyes, everything beyond transformed into colorless, lifeless, still faces. They sit as concrete statues, all under the curse of your beauty, your magic filling their bodies. They all feel it, but none of them can say what it is.

You slash your nails across the photograph, pulling it away to release the scene underneath it. Everyone is frozen, the ice builds over their frozen faces, hanging from their eyelashes in small crystals. The light is white and cold. You enter the room and the color returns to the light, warm and soft. The ice melts from their faces and movement once again stirs.

How can they never see, blinded by their hate? How can they live their shallow lie, how can they claim they feel?