No. Words. Are. Coming. Lately.
As I sit at my laptop, waiting for the words to come,
Thoughts crash together in my brain, becoming mangled and broken;
I try to stay calm and serene, but the right words elude me,
I feel they are watching me from a comfortable distance
Laughing and mocking me. I feel the frustration rising within.
It burns my soul and crushes my being. The words must come,
Without them I am nothing. I can say nothing, I can’t be defined
And if this is the case, can I really exist? So I persevere
Writing bullshit and nonsense and shaking my head,
This is not good enough. Who will this offend? Who can I impress?
Writing is not a choice, it’s a terrible infliction
That follows the victim forever, strangles them, drags them down.
And yet I can’t fight the urge to keep trying
To create something special, something small, in a world
Where the search for perfection threatens to destroy our humanity.
I take a deep breath and say,
I am not perfect; I am shattered and broken,
But I will continue to try, to search for the unattainable,
Because the search for the right words is as important as the finding,
And when they are found, there will be nothing more to say.