I feel like I have lost my ability to create images;
Those truly magical ones that can be read in a year or two when I feel this way again.
A sentence or a word that will usher up in me some spark to light fire in my pen
and take to the pages like some ravish creature.
Some days, the not so bad but oh so normal ones,
I stare at this notebook and pray divine intervention again, as if I know He bores of me too.
“Good morning, help me find my escape from my own head or else I may truly lose my mind”
Most days, like today, I sit in solitude and wait;
Sipping through my teeth the brisk morning air and hot sour coffee,
perfectly made by my perfectly placed Keurig
and doodle line for line-
Life has become some mediocre muse at best.