shattered

The blank page taunts me.

"You can't write now, can't you?"

And who am I, not to believe? After all, I haven't believed in myself lately, from seeing the remnants of my so-called principle lying broken among the rocks. So easy to break, like those expensive, perfectly-crafted jars of Chinese porcelain that shatter with just a minute push, falling down to the floor and disintegrating. To think I've built it for so long and just let it go.

So I let out my sometimes intermittent thoughts, and slowly the taunts silenced. But not for long, I know.