i m afraid of a blank page sitting quiet and desperate creation s a slow fade to exhaustion and old age it s the pebble in my shoe it s the wind on a cold day watching someone do better a crippling fear of change it nods at me slightly it smiles so politely tells me you can do better down the barrel of my own gun i m afraid of a blank page there s a terror in falling in love all alone at the table what was it i was afraid of it s a two minute conversation cracking the spine of a bug standing in line for the teller not knowing which way to look my god what a cold sound when i let myself and my friends down wake up in a cold sweat it s the price i pay for the sound of it