The blank page sits there
as nothing comes to my mind.
Words are hiding from me,
and they're really hard to find.

It seems as if I've run
out of things to say.
I've been sitting here thinking
for a whole fucking day.

I'm distracted,
I think that's why.
All I've done for the past week
is sit here and cry.

Words no longer flow
easily or free.
Words no longer flow
right through me.

Words used to come
as easy as my pain.
Words were the only thing
keeping me sane.

But now they're gone,
and I can't seem to speak.
They're winning at this game
of hide-and-seek.

It pains me to notice that my writings
seem to have stopped.
The pages stay blank,
and the pen I just... dropped.

The blank paper taunts me,
it's whiteness laughing at my shame.
The pen yearns for my touch,
calling out my name.

But I can't.
No words come to my mind.
Words are something
I can't find.

I long to speak
the words I once said,
but the words I spoke
don't come to my head.

I've never had a talent in writing,
but I never dreamed I would stop.
I never dreamed I would hold the blade
and let my pen drop.

The pen and the paper
were my best friend.
They were healing my heart
that I thought would never mend.

But I left them behind,
having nothing to write.
I walked away from them,
leaving them out of sight.

Writing has never been my future,
nor will it be.
But writing was what
defined me.

And now I'm undefined,
because I don't care to write.
I can't take one more
sleepless night.

I would stay awake writing
until the sun was out,
not even caring
what I was writing about.

I gave up the pen,
and I chose the blade.
I gave up the words,
and chose the scars I made.

I gave up the paper,
and I chose the pain.
I gave up the poems,
and chose the shame.

I think this is
the last thing I'll write.
I can't take one more
sleepless night.

This single poem
is my last.
Taking the pen and paper and writing
is my past.

If you don't hear from me,
I want you to know why.
It's probably because
I let myself die.

As soon as I post this,
I'll never come back.
I'll head down the
path I made so black.

I'm off to go crawl in bed
and fall asleep as I cry.
You'll never hear from me,
so I guess this is goodbye.