Writer’s Block


Whittled wood that made withdrawing such an art form,

Hits a brick with every attempt of descent into self.

Thinking obstructing thoughts with each written word.

Who am i to try the extraordinary?

Inept, the sidewalk dust of every social circle.

Filling cracks with envy and disdain.

Despising happiness because of its illusory nature.

Suffocated pieces fell away partaking in the monkey dance.

Something today made me think of those missing pieces.

A tugging along the hazy landscape of my broken ribs,

Tendered by the prying fingers of your transparent words.

Sorrow tongued the keyhole of a closed up room.

with deep creases from the fist like pounding.

Get out of my head, get out of my head screamed long ago,

When life crushed me like a cigarette,

And you left me flaccid in the shadow of your omnipotence.


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