I feel like a blank sheet of paper

White and clean

A colourless vapour

just emptiness

and nothing else

not good

or bad

just

nothing

nothing at all

like a black hole

it’s as if white is not a colour

it’s just

when you don’t have any

no yellow smiles

no grey trials

no tears running blue

no red beds for two

no black roses

for all the losses

nothing

nothing at all

I’m not sure 

at what point I lost my ink 

but I know it’s gone

now it’s just me and the drink

and the virgin white

waving like a flag

it’s got no force to fight

the strong winds

even death’s got a colour

it’s as if when life begins

and you’re the innocent white

you get a choice

and it thinks

I should go live 

every pain a stroke of a brush

every smile a vibrant blush

and it mixes and mixes

until it all goes black

and you’re dead

and you spread

transform

into the sky

a dark cloud up high

about to bring a storm

but I guess something went wrong with me

I never got the choice 

no not really

I never got to live

rejoice

all the colours of life

I’m just a blank sheet of paper

a boring white

light as a feather

like a wave in the ocean

full of energy

but never had the chance

to become a tsunami

so it just goes on and on

waiting for a coast

so it can crash and die

wondering what’s the cost

burning in hell?

becoming void?

can it be worse I can’t tell

I just want a colour

even if it might be black

and hope I will never have to come back

to this stupid world

where others make your choices for you

and still, you are the one that suffers

then they wonder who

who is this person tossed in the bin

crumpled ideas

that could’ve been something

as if they had nothing to do with it

it’s just your fault

“How could you crumple yourself

and put you in a bin

got nothing to do with it myself

no of course not

don’t you know it’s a sin?”

Oh come on you stupid bitch

either let me win

go die and be something

other than this stupid white

or shut your mouth

and give me some goddamn colours

let me live

and I just might forgive

for making me a blank sheet of paper

when I could’ve been everything