Writer’s Block (or Whatever This Is)

In my head,
somewhere between boredom and just okay,
hovering like a forgotten tab in an overcrowded browser.
I scroll through old poems�"
stuff I actually wrote�"
and think,
"Damn. That was kind of brilliant."
Past Me had something to say.
Current Me is just…
trying.

Trying to write,
but it’s all tangled threads and lukewarm tea.
No spark. No muse.
Just me,
staring at the page like it owes me rent.

I ask myself:
Have I even been reading? Learning?
Absorbing anything besides memes and existential dread?

This place�"
wherever here is�"
feels like the literary equivalent of a government office

Author's Note

thank you for reading

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Cassie. Lovely to catch a glimpse of you on the board. The muse can be so fickle and when she downs tools you can never be sure when she will return. Keep going dear poet.

Chris