The futility of words

I have been sitting for days with this blank page. Not even open in reality, just envisioned behind my closed eyes. And still nothing appeared. No words. No thoughts. I could find no possibility of a suitable beginning hiding in amongst the chaos clogging my reasoning. It is as though I’m being thrown around in…

My imperfect words

I can only give you my imperfect words distorted from frail letters that I engineer without integrity into crumbling steps. I am not the editor and they are all I have alternating back and forth driving direction or none taunting me by braving new territory then dissolving into blankness. There is no space to bloom…