The Blank Page

When my eyes glaze over,

And my brain stalls and sputters,

The blank page stares back.

It encapsulates my gaze,

Relentlessly mocking from behind cruel eyes.

The laugh is shrill, almost a cackle.

Anger begins to bubble and churn my gut

As that emptiness permeates my mind.

Consumed by seething rage,

I lash out blindly,

Striking at the page,

Slashing and stabbing without concern,

No time to plot or plan,

Think or analyze,

The hour of my revenge is upon me.

Soon the page will stare no longer,

For I am Titus and the page is my pie!

Black blood drips from broad strokes,

The laugh has ceased to cackle,

My burning gut has calmed,

To brew a bitter-sweat tea.

As the life behind those cruel eyes flickers and fades,

I realize the page, and the words upon it.

A myriad of creatures, with eyes full of shame,

And vengefully murderous intent in their hearts.

Finally feeling conviction, I try to turn the page,

But my brain stalls and sputters,

As my eyes glaze over once more.