Today;
I am a blank page.
This
mostly blank page
says more about how I feel then any cleverly written sentence or phrase could every portray because;
if you open me up
like you would a book
you'd find that
someone has taken off my shirt,
removed my heart and replaced it with
a flower.
As lovely as flowers are they are really only good for
looking at.
I find I do not function quite properly without my beating heart,
I find I do not feel much at all.
It seems
I am now just a pretty something to look at
because of that wonderfully beautiful thief who strolled away with my heart one sunny afternoon.
So I will wait patiently.
I will wait until I have the strength to open myself up and write a new story;
but
until then I will remain a
blank page.
