Salt And Ink

Block

I pick up my frozen fingers

From the edge of the bed

And let them hover over the grey keys

Staring, eyes wide as an owl's-

At the mobile screen.

Minutes slip into hours

And my frustration gathers swift force

Angrily lashing against the bars of my skull

An untamed beast that knows it's hungry

But hasn't a clue what it wants.

My hands, trembling as an old maid's

Gingerly touch a spot on the keyboard

A momentary highlight-

And there's my first letter on the canvas.

The letter that took up half of my day

The letter that was all my thoughts could say-

The single letter A.

I close the flip cover with my eyes

And stare into endless space

Wondering, if this really is my passion

Or just some lust misplaced.

And I look into the mirror and loathe myself

Curled up on the edge of the bed

And the way my life is getting fucked up

I'd prefer death instead.

And all around, my fellow writers

Are poem after poem penning

And here I am, with the letter A

Stuck in the fucking beginning.

I stare at the screen, at the glass, at the sky

I stare to the ticking clock-

And let out a terrible yell of woe

Cursing my writer's block.