When the words won't come
I feel numb, empty inside
On a slow ride
Wanting to go faster
I sit waiting, for stimulus, motivation
Any sign of animation
in this head of mine
Waiting for the literary spark
My mind drips like a tap, drip, drip
Everything in slo mo
Need the words to grow
Blossom, bloom
Then
It hits me
A seed, a kernel
I feel the infernal rattlings
Of cogs that begin to turn
I feel it, a flutter, a thought
Emerging like a butterfly
Words multiply
I write
The words spill like a waterfall
Soaking my senses, breaking down fences
I am hydrated again
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
When the words won't come
I feel numb, empty inside
On a slow ride
Wanting to go faster
I sit waiting, for stimulus, motivation
Any sign of animation
in this head of mine
Waiting for the literary spark
My mind drips like a tap, drip, drip
Everything in slo mo
Need the words to grow
Blossom, bloom
Then
It hits me
A seed, a kernel
I feel the infernal rattlings
Of cogs that begin to turn
I feel it, a flutter, a thought
Emerging like a butterfly
Words multiply
I write
The words spill like a waterfall
Soaking my senses, breaking down fences
I am hydrated again
I hate writer's block and this is about my frustration in those moments.
