Writer's Block
I've been trying to drill my pen out of the concrete hole it's been living in. It seemed to lay itself down to find precious moments of solitude and peace but somehow lost track of time and found itself drowning underneath the burden of life, work, responsibility, and...and just...it's heavy... buried quietly underneath all of the weight and i hear it calling out to me like a child in the well and as the one that first gave it life i have to do everything i can to save it so i drill, drill to the rhythm of my dreams and scrape out every painful fantasy and work until i can see it again...and here i am to blow, breathe, cleanse, caress, touch and love life back into it as i've done once before and when it touches the page, all is right in the world, in my world and with my pen back in its rightful place, i can breathe
