I type, “What do you…”
and then I long press the backspace key.
I stare at the blank screen
and my fingers ache nervously to hit the keyboard.
Hi says the Writer’s Block.
A long pause,
A brief sip of tea,
An empty stare at the wall and
then a long pause again.
It seems that my stare at the wall
will penetrate it somehow,
like a hammer rocking it and
the cement mixtures falling helplessly.
It tries to remain hung to the wall,
like a hopeless lover who cannot
accept the betrayal or denial of his love.
But it should fall for
‘It doesn’t happen that way, right?’
What’s up asks the Writer’s Block.
I lift a book up and then sniff it.
It has got a heavenly smell,
I can eat it. Or Should I make love to it?
Let’s add title first and then I’ll write-
why not use title as the muse-
but what should be the title?
What it should say and what it should hide?
I’m yet to decide.
Hope you’re doing good wishes the Writer’s Block.