An odd thing happened a while back
An early start
to write a draft
The kettle whistled on the stove
My coffee black
with marmite toast
I sat and munched stared at my screen
The cursor winked
Hypnotised me
I couldn't find my writers voice
No words would flow
Only white noise
My inner thoughts deserted me
The page was blank
I was lost at sea
Three months trapped in this purgatory
No imagination
No inner speech
I forced myself to write some words
Used random prompts
Some nouns and verbs
Those words grew into short stories
An imagination
In hard copy
And yet the imagination inside my head
was still empty
I was living dead
The pain of not being able to write
became much worse
the harder I tried
If I couldn't write I couldn't live
My thoughts grew dark
Devil whispered negatives
My worthlessness became amplified
I sit alone most days
and cry
The truth was harder for me to see
A monster
Had his claws in me
As each new day came and went
so grew
my malcontent
No bad reviews, encouraging words
no helping hand
Nowhere left to turn
I stood right on the precipice
Wobbled on the edge
Below self destructiveness
I took the longer path that day
battled my emotions
did not give into pain
My monster well it's here to stay
for now at least
I can write again
It likes a slice of marmite toast
a black coffee
or it will eat my words!
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