[Akayume]: 202.The Color of Innocence

I wanted to be a writer.

No, it was a need. I needed to be a writer. To mull over thoughts in my head and then let them pour out through the ink of my pen, to whisper to sheets of paper so clean and white.

I love blank sheets of paper. They show so much promise, so much hope for things yet to come. White always was the color of innocence.

But after a while I just couldn’t whisper like I used to. Sheets became muddled, the thoughts overflowed like a flood that I could not control, and my paper became smudged and black and the sheets were dirty with ink splotches and the corners were all wrinkled with moisture and it seemed as though the black filled more of my paper than the purest white.

I so very badly want to be a writer. But I'm all out of clean sheets of paper.