Writers block.

 

Is when your fingers choke on empty ideas.

When your hair is knotted in frustrated strands

When your imagination has floated away onto a distant cloud

that you can’t quite reach because dead roots have clamped on your feet.

All you have to stare at is a blank page and a clock.

The clock.

Flickering above the microwave.

Ticking away all the letters you have yet to write.

If only you could just write.

 

But high standards elevate your self hate,

A hate that turns and twists and tears at your self-esteem.

and every single word you pen only seems to enunciate

the fact that you can’t think of a single. Thing. To. Say.

 

Yes. Those are the symptoms of writers block.

The symptoms of “chronic checking the clock”.

With side effects of constant comparisons,

and hours spent waiting for an epiphany to knock,

just a flicker of inspiration into you.

 

These are the moments that make writing tough.

So my solution is to write until your keyboard is a magnet,

and the tips of your fingers, iron.

Until each sentence is like breathing.

Until each letter is a star filling up the pages with a sky of possibility.

 

Refuse to give up.

At least not over a few words.

Inspiration lurks in every nook and cranny of the mind.

Do not ever, under any circumstance, undermine a single line.

Hold on to each spark that hits you.

Because although a spark can lead to a blaze,

on a page that spark will turn into an inferno.