Writers Block

My brain is held captive within the steel cell of my skull, its desperate pleas for freedom a recurrence of screams and cries and echoes of feelings i cannot contain... yet when i unbolt the cell door that is my mouth my brain slips back into its handcuffs and sits to serve a longer sentence.

My hands twitch and sweat under the weight of words in my fingers, writhing and forcing their way through the tips... yet when i put the pen to paper they disintegrate in the black ink no-mans-land where no story makes it out alive. 

The ghosts of feelings past, present and future circle my stomach, taunting it and causing it to sway making me sea sick on an ocean of brain waves, where I am in a small row boat made of my own ideas watching as water seeps through a literal hole that I do not have the power to un-imagine.... until I drown in my own emotions.

And as I fight my way to the surface I make a promise, "oh God if you only let me live to make it back to the shore of sanity I swear to you I will tell you tales that will ignite fires of passion in your heart"

And then I wake up in my bed, and I try to tell my mother about my dream. I tell her how it made me feel.... uhm... well, it was sorta like... you know that time when? Or how sometimes I-

And then she'll shout into the void of my stutter storm "cat got your tongue?" and i will stare blankly as an entire autobiography rises up from the pit of my stomach and the sarcasm in my mothers tone causes a land slide in which words come pouring out... only they come in the form of water, trickling from my tear duct and as my tongue trudges through the snow, thick with explanation, the only word that doesn't melt away before it reaches her is "yeah" .