Sometimes there are no words.
You are greeted simply with a blank space.
An empty sheet.
A void.
Some people call it writer's block.
Some call it stress.
Some call it laziness.
To me it is oblivion.
Oblivion is safety.
Oblivion is chaos.
It is everything I reach for
And hope for.
It is the unformed matter of my imagination.
It is massive and unreachable
And yet it is minute and microscopic.
But it holds all hope.
It is oblivion.
And it smiles.
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