Writer’s Block

The blank page stares at me, mocking me as I attempt to formulate ideas. I take a sip of water and twirl my coils slowly between my fingers as I will and idea to spring forth from my mind and flow freely from the tip of my pencil. Yet and still, I sit here vexed with my mind hovering between this idea and that. Why are words escaping me, and more importantly, why can’t I settle on any solid ideas? I don’t understand. I’m no spring chicken, I have a myriad of experiences from which to pull but none of them seem quite right for the task at hand. So I will think, I will write, I will try–but if all else fails, I will go to bed and try again tomorrow.

Frustration

Deeply hidden in the back of my book

is where they’re all hidden where no one can look.

I get so FRUSTRATED

I haven’t a clue what to write-

fractured pieces of the thoughts lurk in my head every single night.

I am so afraid to pick up my pen-

or turn that crisp page,

because the moment I start I’ll be interminably engaged.

Once I begin, desperately I try to finish each piece,

vowing to somehow find my release.