trip flare  
and they are in a singing,
soprano sea of light
my heart thumping, baritone,  
my eyes digesting this metastasizing meal  
choking on it, until  
the guy beside me opens fire,  
emptying a magazine before I flip
from safety to rock ’n roll auto  
both of us now filling the killing
fields with tracers,
whizzing shouting shadows
in this sorrowful symphony…  
the light fades
in the newly darkened pit  
the crawling ebony clad shapes
stop,
the conductor, long gone  
to another stinking stage,  
while here, the blood dries black
and I have new mournful memoirs
of  the music of madness

Writers block it's kinda like your brain has deflated, speechless a thought comes to mind you try to restrain it. Got it, easy to catch, but it's hard to retain it. Swiftly moving by, it's like your mind is in a race. But on an empty tank, like a sentence where you fill in the blank. But at a steady pace, no chase, that thought just goes to waste. Difficult to face, trouble, you just break down and crumble. Now your at the bottom with nothing above you, nothing to look up too. Which would technically make you at the top, flip flop. You don't know what your saying, your brain is skipping waves and you need to be saved, but afraid to ask for help, cause anything you want to do you gotta do it for yourself.

Eyes closed in the dark,
like on a cold night,
I hear you breathing.
inspiration, anticipation,
each inhalation an invitation,
pulled close, held and
expelled, necessarily,
prolonging the moment
(A white noise stare,
like you left the t.v. on
and we don’t notice).
Lips agape,
a warm taste,
whispering sheets,
your mouth keeps pace,
breath unfolding.
Blind but for brushstrokes,
panting, paint drips,
clung to the canvas;
Breath is all there is.

To and fro I travel
Yet I find no place to rest
The hardened heart
Grows colder
Bleeding less and less

Yet as I lay
Upon hard ground
There's a lack of comfort
To be found

Still my restless spirit
And my hungry heart
Beckons me to worlds afar...