keys

black on white
white on black
fingers in flight
dancing

pages and lines and letters
letters and lines and pages
read for
read to
fingers fly
souls collide

ivory
plastic

keys

endless

the blank page is a most terrifying sight
an endless field of white spread across my desk
like a falling snow on growing crops
a descending death
smothering my seed of thought
a newborn shoot of inspiration
my pen falls silent out of desperation
brought on by a sinking feeling in my chest
the momentum of the moment ground to a halt
by grains of salt sprinkled about in my bleeding confidence
wounds laid open by self-inflicted pain
as motivation to regain the spark that's been lost
a futile effort to shake the frost that's settled on the page
an unrelenting winter that threatens to last an age
shivering in the dark
huddled in my mind
racing against time to thaw the ice
to penetrate the freeze that has brought me to my knees
wading waist-deep in thick snow
searching for words with nothing to show
but icicle tears
unfeeling fingers
and reconfirmed fears
all around are barren trees
naked branches with no fruit or leaves
no hint of green
no signs of life
only ice
and endless white

what if this isn't just a momentary fall
what if i can't do this after all
the longer the page remains smothered in white
choking out the life i sought to bring to the light
the more i am filled with a bone-chilling fright
that hounds me for the rest of the night
held together by whispers from the back of my shriveled heart
'you're finished' they hiss as i shiver in the dark
all because i've failed to make a mark on this lifeless page
at first i was hot with rage
but now its too cold
now im too numb
darkness prevails
this ship has sailed
i dont know what to say

but if i can survive this sleepless night
if i can withstand the pains of frostbite
when the smells of spring roll across this hidden valley
when the light of day illuminates my huddled form in this dirty alley
roses and daisies will bloom again
this feeling of dread and doom within will melt away
even though the ground is covered in white
i've dedicated my life to transforming sleepless nights
into fields teeming with words of insight
because the page of white is simply a stage
that is ripe with possibilities
and until my pen is laid to rest
until the players and actors have begun to undress
the possibilities are truly endless

wallflowered

i'm sure she's a nice girl but how do i know i'm a nice guy
i'll probably never know
because every time i try to come up with something to say to her
a reason for her to remember my face
a reason for her to consider me worthy enough
to have a place in her circle of friends
i cant do it
i dont know why
i cower, i hide, i cant muster the guts to swallow my pride
and walk over there to introduce myself
"hey hows it goin my name is jordan"
no way
i walked past her on the steps today
i didnt even say hi
in fact i looked the other way
in the end my fears always win
and im forever alone again
because i cant find the words to say
because im afraid to try