Point Blank

I stabbed a blank page in my notebook
with the sharpest of ballpoints
the black pen against the white sheet
ripping through the unsuspecting paper
without hesitation or second thought

The pen worked furiously
ripping and cutting
with the little ball point
sufficiently sharp
to penetrate through the thin paper

Slicing and dicing
cutting and thrashing
the paper offered no resistance
the pen grandiose
in its vehement insistence

Calm and collected
looking at the sheet
I confirmed what I always knew
but refused to accept
about the nature of books

Paper is weak
for it can be touched
paper can be shredded
and can be burned
freely demolished at whim

without much effort
my pen was as mighty as the sword
the paper a docile subservient
hauled to the guillotine
for its final chapter

When I was satisfied
with what I had done
I carried the shards to the trash can
looking over to the notebook
realizing there was still much more I could do

2 thoughts on “Point Blank

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