the door

its closes on the fingers of my thoughts as they try and creep into the fabric of my mind, a door of steal and emptyness.

Hello world!

The blank paper glares back at me, mocking me, my hand is trebmling my pencil is doing a little gigg in my had as I try and force its head to make contact with the paper, the twilight is creeping into my open window, dragging its long nails along the dark stary sky, it is 3:23am my eyes burn, my hands are cold, my hair is everywhere a pillar of light comes from the lamp in the corner, it cascades down the celing on to my pale face, as much as my body says to go back to sleep, I can’t keep my eyes away from the paper, we are in a battle of wits, and the blank paper is winning just laying there with a smug  smirk on its white face, I stare back willing my hand to form words upon the paper “I never like that door” came out of the tip of my paper and the rest was a blur of paper being covered up with grey lead forming a story forming my story, and as dawn come rearing its grey cloudly head around the once white paper is covered with pencil marks and smears of eraser marks, my body has long forgot about sleep, it now wants food and water, so I get up and I leave the defeated paper on my desk.