Blank….it’s all blank inside.

But, there is a void that I hide

Deep down in the folds of the heart

there is pain, but, where do I start?



From the beginning, end or the middle?

or wherever one can place the needle.

How can I talk?

When I can hardly walk…



How should I narrate my tale?

Each time i try but, only to fail.

Should i talk of my bruises or the razor I’ve stashed away?

Or the things I wanted to, but, could never say.



Or should I tell you about the times…

When I let my tears dry up inside?

Or those unspoken rhymes

which under my pillow I hide…..