I fight with my paper and pen, nothing.
Crinkling words into balls again, nothing.
I google storylines and plots, hoping.
I pace the floor to my dark den, nothing.
Thinking back to my old nightmares, creeping.
Seeing the ghosts from my playpen, nothing.
I try to capture the life around me.
The tweet,tweet of a canyon wren, nothing.
I notice the squeak in my swivel chair.
Also a splotch from my pen, still nothing.