Showdown

The blank page
Stared me down

My knuckle white fingers
Gripped the blood-thirsty pen

Slowly
Ever so slowly
The pen draws near
Teeth barred
Ready for the fight

The paper took its stance
Sweat beading its forehead
It was scared

Blood dripped
Off the tip of my pen
Scarring the paper
Forever

It was down
I stood
In triumph

The paper
Lowered its head
Wandered off
In shame

*This was a poem I wrote quite awhile ago, and although not romantic at all, I thought that I would post it.