WhiteOut

White
Flashes,
crashes,
slaps my eyes
with blank,
vain brutality.
Another stack
to wrack my skull.
Each glaring, colorless
razor edged.
With no depth,
no texture,
just futile phrases
and weightless words.
This is the meal ticket
I sell my sanity for.
This intangible foe,
massive as redwoods
but evasive, fluttering
into wisp-thin sheets
to surround me,
drown me,
bury me breathing,
but not alive,
beneath these swells
of vile and pointless
paper.