Writers Block

The paper stares blankly at me
Counting the seconds
Sucking any glimpse of an idea from
my grasp
My mind is a void,
of deep infinite nothing
The words fall from pen to paper with a meaningless thud
I scratch them out, those two- dimensional words

An epidemic races across my mind
Thoughts wither to nothing, creativity dies
I can't think
Motionless, the pen sits in my hand
Too weak to write
It looks up at me with sad guilt
Like a puppy after it's been scolded

I tap my feet restlessly
I drum chipped fingernails on the desk
I chew my tongue until it's raw
Slowly, I put my pen down
I turn away from the page's mocking stare
I don't want to write anyways.