Untitled (because I’m literally that empty headed)

Words, stories of any kind have just deserted me of late. I want to want to write, but I feel like a dry well. Once good for something, but now just creaky, parched, and kind of an eyesore someone should raze out of its misery.

I sat down to write a blog post, and ended up writing something pretty foreign to me – a poem. I like it, though, and I think it perfectly expresses how I feel.

Untitled

Maybe I’m not supposed to have the words

Maybe it’s the price I paid

For the baby in my womb

Frustrated, silent and unsaturated

Familiar friends, my verbs and nouns

They skirt the room, eluding me

I wish my urge to chase was stronger

But toys and books and children’s clutter

Calls to me with siren song

Oh housewife of yore

That twit you swore you’d never be

Looks back at you in shock

I can’t relent

I wouldn’t take it back

For all the pictures words would paint

My child’s cry is more