Poetic bliss- The Blankness in Her
The page was left blank for a reason.
She didn’t know what to do.
She didn’t know what to write.
Her mind wasn’t in the moment.
She couldn’t think of any characters to create.
There was no love story in her. No story, character, or feeling that resonated within her.
There was just this blankness living inside of her.
It overtook her whole being until there was nothing left of herself.
She wanted to write. She wanted to create this other world that only she can see. She wanted to create loving characters, write about the bond between them.
Writing was a part of her just like breathing was.
She lived in her head most of the time.
She lived in her imaginations, in the world she created. She lived through the characters she only could create and their love story.
Without that part of her, she was nothing.
But as she stared down at the paper, no words or phrase or sentence came to mind.
Nothing but the blank state of her mind.
She couldn’t call it writer’s block… because it wasn’t.
That blankness was something dark.
She blinked down at the paper. The pen was held in her hand, poised on the golden paper in front of her.
But the blankness dominated her space. It crawled unwanted in her space, in her territory.
That blankness in her controlled her.
It controlled her mind. It controlled her emotions and reality.
It wanted her to remain in the cruel and harsh world around her.
It wanted to take her away from what she knew to be her escape.
But she didn’t want that.
She searched for something that would take the blankness away.
There was nothing. Nothing that would help her. No one that wanted to help her.
That blankness in her was vicious. It didn’t play by the same rules as her.
She was at a loss on what to do.
She didn’t want the blankness to win.
…But it was.