I sit completely still,

Clearing all my thoughts. 

Maybe I’ll be great,

Maybe I won’t.

Just my ideas are as horrible as the day someone makes pretzels for first time.

That’s what I say,

But people say the opposite.

They say I’m good.

Writing anything is harder than I thought....

Oh wait-

That’s a thought,

I should stop.

Word after word,

They just won’t come out the way I want, just like the endings of movies that shouldn’t be right.

Exactly that…

As you can see.

I would like to write stories that allow my readers to think of my appreciation,

Because this is rather boring,

And maybe it isn’t to some-

It is to me.

My throbbing mind that is bursting ideas,

Is just too fast for my cold slow hands to type them.

What should I write about,

How will I do it- I won’t

I have been taught to just write what I think,

And here they are…

So boring and complete nothingness. Nothingness. Nothingness.

I am just thinking about what to write...and then I write what I think.

I think I have an idea!

A good one too!

It is about-

Aw man...I forgot.

Memory is key,

But I don’t have a very good memory,

And I don’t have a key. A key. A key?

A key to unlock the door perhaps?

What door could I open?

The one door that unlocks my brain? 

But there is nothing in there…

I must find that key to the forbidden past of my life, because all that matters to me, is in there for sure.