Stark white sheets of empty paper
Were flying in the wind
Then floating gently on a breeze
Came to rest upon my pen

I felt myself forget to breathe
I could find no air
As the very thing I ran from
Lay staring at me there

In desperation my heart cried out
“Why can’t you let me be”
You are that which makes me feel
From what my heart does flee

As if possessed, with no control
My hand ignored my heart
Caring not that what it did
Tore my heart apart

My pen poured ink upon the sheets
Controlled by my traitorous hand
While my heart felt every single word
It vowed to never feel again