Fear of a blank page

After so many disheartening attempts I promised I'd never write again Yet here I am staring at a blank page That little black book into which I wrote all my secrets now wrinkled with age The pages almost turned beige I fear its blank pages as I unravel all its unwritten pages I hold my pen and my hand gently shakes Poems from yesterday linger those that I thought were failures My poetic tenure has been riddled with past voices reminding me of my choices A choice not to fear these blank pages but to write my heart out and bare my soul upon a blank page