Blank Pages

Everything is a blur
But there are no tears
In my eyes,
I stare at the pages of
The story of my life,
A fiction
All I desired
In the palm of my hands
I never dared turn another page
Again and again
Staring until the pages turned themselves
A chilling breeze
And the pages soon lacked words
The wind grew in ferocity
So much time has passed
Yet the book won’t close,
And the words won’t return
If only to be filled with curses
From those whose praise I used to read
It will always be a kind memory
A fond fantasy
But this fiction has two paths
To continue
Or end
If I’m the one to turn the page
This time,
Will there be words
Any words

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