CS ( / )

Writer's Block

Blank pages lust for the pen of my mind
To brush against teir untouched surface
The need to put my pen to paper burns and compels me
Nevertheless in my minds own indecisiveness it argues back
As it forms undecided thoughts of what to write about

Shall it slice open old wounds
Enter my past and drip forth blood of happenings long ago
And watch as it stains words across the paper?

Maybe the mind should crack open
Spilling forth all my stubborn opinions
Through figners that wait and grasp an unused pencil

Or does it ache
To mock the lives of all those around me
About their endless complains of a reality they believe has been so cruel to them?

Perhaps it will open a portal and step through to the future
To was as prophecies are fulilled as thoughts record my future
As rush into my pencil that eagerly waits to scribble them down
Before they slip back into the unreachable cracks of my mind

Trying to think of words to fill this virgin paper
Brainstorming, thoughts not forming
Just set down the pencil, put aside the pen
Stare at the paper
Until blood forms in your gaze
And wait for the blood of your thoughts to flow
Forming words across the paper...
Alas, the mind cannot

by Cat Summers

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