my words fail me today,
from my brain to my keyboard,
these feelings do not translate
into blooming fields of flowers,
but rather graveyards of gravel –
the death, not of a tangible person,
but of my confidence and the story
i wished to tell today –
and these feelings of frustration
as the clock ticks by
and the page remains empty, taunting me,
tears of anger join crumpled paper,
for what am i
without these words
that refuse to bend to my will?
i am nothing.