Empty Threat (Repost January 2017)

Words fail me
And the blank page
Threatens me
Emptiness and I am afraid
I truly have nothing to say
For this is a writer’s death
The wasted hours are pallbearers
To fragments of stories
I forget with the setting of the sun
So lay these sentences down
So maybe I can face this feeling
Trembling in the pit of my stomach
Heart beat skipping
More than the records of memories
Incomplete pieces
And vacancy of thought
Leaving my mouth dry
And staring blankly at the screen


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