Writer's Block

Life rots in my gut, like too much meat

packed in for winter;

an undigested, misunderstood

amalgamated drudge.

It should be spun out in fine web,

circularly dangled on trees

for the season; illuminated fruit

ready to be picked and devoured,

instead of piled up fatty blockage

in an artery waiting to seize.

I am undone from the inside.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

when we can't get the words out, they do tend to rot inside...and we smell them...but still can't get the package opened, even when it is way past the expiration date...

without the words to express the feeling...everything gets piled up and blocked with the inky veins we can't clear...

and could make us have a figurative heart attack.

i really like this...it so well describes writers block in a very different metaphoric way.

[Kristina Moulaison]

Thank you! Quite writing longer better reviews than my poems.

[Kristina Moulaison]

But thank you so much! I really do appreciate your words. :)

[Devesh]

That's exactly how it feels! I hate the feeling you get when you wan't to say something but can't, you want to cry, but can't weep, the words just sleep inside of you. You described it perfectly. Fantastic!

[Kristina Moulaison]

yes! Sleeps inside you...very good! Thanks so much!

[Devesh]

You're welcome! :)