Is this what you call...?

It's been a while that my emotions have been slaughtered

But their dead bodies lay on the unbound bare ground

As my ink still struggles to weave a coffin

Like always...memories of mine

Thrown away by many

Lay naked on footpaths

However this time ,

My quill couldn't cover them with rhyme.

IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL WRITER'S BLOCK ?

The nightmares I dreamt

Lay disemboweled

Staining every piece of earth I could feel under my feet

But I stand helpless today

As my verses fail to cover them up

IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL WRITER'S BLOCK ?

Wait don't skitter upstairs

Because the worse is yet to come downstairs

There is this bleeding heart

Which lay in a cart

A cart that is chosen by many

Tossed by many more

And vandalised to the core.

I am frozen

As neither haiku nor epic tale

Come to rescue this heart of a female

Who could no longer dwell on feminism or male chauvinism

Everything has been put up

For everything has been penned down

IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL WRITER'S BLOCK ?

I don't believe in happy endings

But still I write one

In a hope...

Not of life happening that way

But of death giving life it's end in that sway.

It sounds deadly

But then why haven't you come to mourn my dear pages?

IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL WRITER'S BLOCK ?

The homeless me stands in the middle of nowhere

Those spaces between the wounds have thrown me away

And the lines between the lines do not take me as a tenant anymore

My mind is in the spell of whiskey

For the unwritten ideas hurt more than the unfulfilled ones

My hands don't drink any kind of alcohol

For nothing gets them high other than poetry

But that's unavailable!!

My soul is looking for its own parts

Which were shred long ago

To create something that will still take time to be written down

IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL WRITER'S BLOCK ?

©tiawritz