afterthewritersblock
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Dear Writer's Block,
I tried to write a song today,
but something got in the way.
Was it you?
You decided to show up again
I thought I told you we're not even friends
Yes, what I said was true.
Frozen.
Stuck.
Words failing to form.
A story too long to focus on.
Suddenly,
A butterfly thought.
Fluttering around before landing on a new paper.
The world fallen silent.
I have nothing to write about
I have been staring at a white screen for fifteen grueling minutes and I still have nothing to write about
Inspiration is everywhere
And I am looking around for something
Dance and writing are my outlets.
The two things that make me the happiest.
Two things I don't do nearly enough of.
Maybe that's why I feel sad, stuck,
Like something's pent-up, caged,
Because they are.
