The Blank Page By Janine Hart

The blank page.

The blank page is a terrifying place to be. The fear of your words trapped behind a wall that your soul has created that your mouth can’t or will not break.

The blank page.

The blank page is, or can be a death sentence. A silence or a scream for a savior…

Because a blank page is like slitting the vein across instead of down. The blank page is an open to an end or to a new beginning… Or to another failure. The words that blacken the white could empty you or fill someone else, but they may never take away the void.

The blank page.

The blank page is a chaotic moment in silence. Slow motion movements that never really answer a question. The bright white void mixing the black to make it complete.

The blank page is a warning.

A warning that you have expelled so much into a universe that doesn’t receive. That you are lost…

That you actually, for once, have nothing left to say.

Because… because the blank page lets you know that no one listened to the filled ones. That no one cared to read to the bottom. That this could just be…another blank page to everyone else.

The blank page.

The plague that is the block, no, boulder that sits peacefully in front of you. The reason you crave to be one with concrete. The prayer that you hear those voices again. The fear that the dark has won.

The blank page is a warning. A warning that is seen and heeded, but never defended against.

That blank page is our heart.