It stretches itself
_______so thin
__________across the page

that the message feels inauthentic.

Its face is a blank plank
of redefined

It does not even know
where it came from.

The words are pliable—
they peel off the page
like old stickers, like fresh scabs.

It hurts to read.

I wish that I could toss the page,
_____scramble the words,
watch them
_______scatter _______confetti _______the
_________________like _____________in __________air

The light would glint off of them briefly,
like black razors,
and then they would be forgotten.

This poem does not deserve a name.
It does not deserve to be labeled.

How could it be recognizable,
worthy, or meaningful,
when you will not even
_________________________touch it
with the tip of your
_____________________little finger?

It may not be worthy
but (still)
it writes itself
into oblivion—


KATHRYN STAUBLIN is a writer and English teacher from Indianapolis, Indiana. She encourages her students to write every day, if only for the sake of writing.