A white page slaps me in the face
It boxes my ears
Saying, “Amy, bruise me blue.”
It knows my fetish for azure ink
“But I’ll take black if you want to be harsh.”
“I like it that way.”
I wonder why I put myself
Through this sadomasochistic dance
Day after painful day
Ripping ideas from my head
With no anesthesia
Arranging them in my ugly scrawl
But silencing the blankness
Is a brutal symbiosis
And the moment I stop
The paper begs me for more
This is great! I like the definition of writing is like a fetish. The begging of the paper to have something written on it is an intriguing way to express the thrill of creating poetry. *Applause all around* ~ Troy