Originally written January 3, 2009

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A muse by this time would have found
The words that set the feelings
The feelings to put into words
Stagnant and stalled
The blank sheet of white
Mocks my hands to inaction
As I watch the syrupy drips
In the empty glass
Cast snail path trails on my desk

Where my stomach has joined my heart
And tightened ribs can only grasp
Quick gulps of poisoned air
I sit
Unable to move
Powerless to call to action
My mind or my pen
Incapable of escaping
The thoughts that drown
My swelling mind
My aching mind
Unwilling to be broken
By the world resting on my back

For this
Is not my life
But that which I have borrowed
And the memories I have created
Are not mine
Only shallow pools of reflections
On days gone by

The blank page still stares back
Past the empty glass
As ripples form in the pool
Reminding me of that time
And I pause….