Slave to these words in Nicotine

These blank pages stare at me almost tauntingly

"What are you gonna do?"

"What are you gonna say?"

I scream.

I don't know!

Throw the book across the room.

Pick it back up and start to write,

Angrily.

Here are your words.

You wanted them out?

Take them.

I don't want them anymore.

They haunt me enough.

When I lay my head on the pillow,

They smother me.

Take them.

Emotions bled like paint on a canvas.

Everything I wanted to say,

Everything I needed to say.

Slave to these words,

To these pages.

Will it ever let me go?

©dreambigdarling - Prosebox - 2014