Fill in the Blank

I am not writing about myself as a rational human being. I am writing about a deep, bottomless pit. A place with no definition. A vortex of volume that is uncontrolled and unknown. Standing in a hollow room, feeling the blank air surrounding you. The unsupportive air that at any moment could go on strike and not enter my airway. Rendering you blank and invisible, a member of the space team. Not the adventurous one that lands on the moon, and ventures to other planets, the space team that fills empty rooms with more silence, the ones that follow the pause in an awkward sentence. The blank club where existence is a curse word, value and meaning never enter, they are forbidden.

An unwanted membership provided by the man that just pushed their uneaten healthy supper away from them at your table. He’s an executive of the club. My words are targeted, bombed and destroyed before they reach even halfway to his ear. Piles of creative thoughts, innovations and kind words sit stacked upon the floor. I walk around tippy-toed to avoid stirring the piles. He walks through the piles shattering the layers of letters into forgotten crumbs upon the floor. His large feet with forceful action, act like a Sasquatch, chasing the consonants and vowels away. They are lost forever the Sasquatch should follow them, it doesn’t. It turns and walks upon any remaining vernacular. Blanks remain.

Stomped upon so many times, evidence of a pathway to nowhere, a GPS that leads to a deep bottomless pit. His words hang in the air, choking me. Mine smashed to nothing upon the floor. Crawling I try to eat the tattered remains on the floor, desperately seeking to be refilled. I cannot swallow, my gag reflex ejects them. Standing, I breathe in the empty hanging words, sharp swords that cut me, I cannot breathe. A baby cries out in the distance, I take in a deep sword breath, clasping my chest, I stand straight walking away from the sharp hanging words, towards to the soft mumbles coming from the crib. Catching my breath I reach down and grab the little life preserver, putting it on, the rhythm of my breath in tune with the cries, I am visible and soothing to the infant. Peace, we eat the word together.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Genuine Gem says:

    Words are powerful. The words we chose to use help to define us

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