Cups of coffee; paper, pen, ink;
dried mouth, absence of sleep;
Shaking hand.
My mind starts to play tricks
I couldn’t comprehend.
These scribbles and obscure words
are staring right into my eyes,
muttering one terrifying

“How can you breathe life into us
if you don’t even understand
how to breathe?”




This is not a writer’s block,
or whatever you would name it.
This is just me trying to understand
something I never experienced before.
It took me all night and day.
It robbed me of my sleep.
Yet I remain oblivious.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s