Type…Delete.
Type…Delete.
Typing…
No.
What am I thinking?
I keep deleting,
deleting,
deleting,
unable to find the meaning
I so desperately wish to convey,
fearing the way they’re portrayed
may betray my darkest feelings,
as ink runs bleeding down the page,
and splatters meaninglessly
on another empty tapestry.
Each word I make
each key I hit
they disappear
before my eyes
My fingers rise
my deepest fears
I can’t submit
I cannot take
No, I can’t break…
not like this.
Not like this.
Begone, abyss.
Tyler DeWriter 