I cannot get anything down.
I squeeze and suffocate,
choke the words out,
waterboarded with books,
until there is some water in this ******* drought.
Blame it for the lack of ingenuity,
for the life-long ambiguity,
how I cannot get my message out,
no matter how much I scream and shout.
The more I write the brighter I burn,
but like a fire I go out,
forgetting everything that I learn,
lost in the smoldering embers of doubt.