The Blank Page
The cursor tsks at me with every flash
Impatient for the first mistake
Sneering “I told you so”
Before I have typed a single T
How can I encapsulate every fear, doubt, anxiety
When the very thing I want to write about tells me
“You can’t do this”
I have laid in hospital beds bleeding
A casualty in the battle my body wages on itself
Only to find out that this is chronic war
Just like the flares, acceptance comes and goes
I have eviscerated myself before a crowd
Words I wrote with blood I shed
Hands and voice shivering despite the heat in my cheeks
Gone home with a medal for bravery
I have made it through much worse than this
--This--
Why am I listening to the nagging doubt
When I’ve proven it wrong?
Maybe the blank page will never stop
Every keystroke is a battle
I’m not quite done fighting, yet.