blanks

it hits home

when you run out of words 

to mirror the whirlpool 

contained within your mind; 

it kinda feels hollow

because you’re so used to 

emptying your soul 

through twenty six letters 

stringed so asthetically together 

that it doesn’t begin to paint 

an accurate picture of our turmoils

oh it’s an ebbing wave 

when we realise 

that without our words

we no longer feel invincible 

because  all of a sudden the words

 we 

took shelter behind 

are no longer there –

there for us like a canvas

ready to absorb the pain

and the joys

instead we stare blankly 

at a blank page

no longer stained by the power of words

as we wonder how to fill the blanks 

in our hearts 

all because we happened to 

run out of 

fuel. 

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