Nothing's Written

The words don’t need a script, Just me, myself, and my conflict. Too many thoughts, yet nothing written. The emotions that stir up from within, Too Many thoughts yet the voice speaks none, Or am I just waiting for the time I’ll be gone. Nothing’s written in this blank sheet of paper, Just like how my life has nothing prepared for the future. Nothing but the scribbles of anxiety and carelessness. The doodles of boredom that caused a fine man to be depressed. Nothing is written, on the blank space on my notes, Except the marks left behind by the tears that soaked. I don’t need a script, because nothing is written anyways. I just wanted a voice for the words I couldn’t say. Yet no matter how hard I tried, it’s only the thoughts that stayed. And again, nothing filled the paper, but the emotions filled the heart. Why has it all ended? When I didn’t even get a chance to start. Why is it all finished? Can’t I at least pause and restart?