The blank white page
conjures fear and terror
and the words comfort.
We have questions
with answers buried
beneath truths
contained in the black.
It engulfs and enfolds and encloses.
I emerge
unharmed and transformed and hated.

Destroying boundaries
that have been built with sweat and devolution
will result in death.

With the moon on my tongue, I
taste bitterness and rejection.
I question the nature of what floats below.
I question the existence of what floats below.
I question the beauty of what floats below...