Words are all I have to make the hurt go away

Staring at a blank page in front of me,
I wonder what magic I can create on it.
Use colours, words, graphics or anything to ensure it’s not blank anymore.
I don’t like to leave it white.
It seems to be staring at me with an accusing glance,
Blaming me for God knows what.
Probably it’ trying to tell me how similar we both are...
Each a possibility,
Each with a lot of potential
And each wasted.
Yeah, there!
It looks more like me now.
With meaningless words scribbling on it.
The race continues between my mind and my hands,
To see who gets the better of whom
They seem to be coordinating well, but after a point,
I’m sure one will give up.
I’d rather it be my mind, coz who wants a hand that dictates the mind?
There, almost done. The page has no colours, just words and more words.
Each jostling with each other for space and sense
For a breath of sanity,
Reaching out to you through a blank canvas
Should I have left it that way?
A blank canvas? Full of potential and possibilities?
Where would it leave me then?
Unfulfilled, aimless and lost
Like my hand that’s typing this out
And like my mind that’s churning out these thoughts.
Dusting the cobwebs that have rested here for long.
It’s time to move on...to another blank canvas...called Life.