A blank page, so much space to write everything that could be said
-- yet nothing should be.

Sometimes silence is the only true reflection of something that can't be bound by any combination of lines or sounds.
When words cannot give me the peace of defining that which overcomes me,
I fall into a void of dulled existence;

I call, crawl, scratch the walls of the mind that bound me.
My heart screams and breaks itself to free me.
I fall, lay flat on the back that carries me;
look at the walls that stare at me;
feel the emptiness of my own echo chamber.

I remember that I am not skin and bone,
that I am planets and galaxies;
that I am a universe imploding;
that heartbreak is a human condition and that love is a string of energy that binds our stardust particles.

I remember that everything is temporary, and I remember that you do not define me.