Ideas,
thoughts,
flood to and fro in my mind,
but none pour
out of my pen.
For these words are stuck,
stumbling,
rushing,
flying,
around in my head.

Mind block feels like a curse,
for it is an empty purse of ideas.
Because as an artist,
you are broke.

I try to defy my mental block,
I scrape my head,
becoming harsher on myself
as I force emotions to be penned
into words.
But all what comes is
incoherent, inadequate,
dots and strokes.

The words are fleeting,
they've lost their meaning.
Out of synch,
out of thought,
out of ink.

Writer's block,
is where I sink.

I never know what to write.

I'm trying but I can't win the fight.

This "thing" prevents me from thinking.

Sometimes I feel like breaking.


I don't know what to write anymore.

I can't write just like before.

This writers block is getting to me.

Once this is over, I'll go on a writing spree.

I am out of control.

I feel it in my soul.

I'm tearing apart again.

Tearing apart just like then.


It hurts me so badly,

being stuck in a fake reality.

Not being able to write.

Not able to see the light.


This is all hard to comprehend.

Tell me; When will it all end?