My world is not of the written word
It cannot be numbered
held captive on a so called page

My world is liquid
as sea , rain , snow or ice
It can be hot , cold , or entice

My world is cloudy
It thunders after it flashes light
My world is wrong , my world is right

There are no words that bind my life
I won't be delegated
to exist in the black on white

I will not be staved
by the limited sways
of the written words upon the page

I am currently experiencing
a severe case
of creative block
I’m bleeding from my ears
blood from my eyes
dripping down my chin and brow
blood on these lines
stored ****** thoughts
reserved in my head
leaking down my nose
Dam I’m bleeding read