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Scared of The Blank Page

I don’t fear living nor death.

I don’t fear physical pain because my soul is always on fire.

My soul is always on fire. 

Never turns to ash but forever lit since the day I took my first damned breath into this world.

I fear one thing;

feeling

The blank page I have to fill, I have to feel.

I have to feel.

I understand you get bored of my creative ways to project everything God-awful I feel.

It doesn’t end.

I’m fluent in English, Arabic, and pain

and pain is a universal language

deeply hidden but there, everywhere

I walk and just as much as you can tell how short I am you can also see the flames of my soul, the pain in my eyes and the whisper of a scream in my laughter

The blank page

The fear of feeling in order to produce a whole meaning of acceptance or love

I don’t fear to trip on my feelings or typing it I fear feeling it.

I’m a writer but I can’t explain the never-ending river in my mouth

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2 comments

  1. One of the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read💜

  2. […] the fear of the blank page the lead squeezed onto the surface forced to imagine coerced to do the work of my veins for then, they dried out and left me in vain the pens also dried out lead wouldn’t come out pens and pencils broke just then […]

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