When the words go, the writer’s loneliness installs itself,
makes its home into her head.
She is there, silent as always
only this time the words no longer flow through her veins
No longer supply her oxygen.
She sits there still and the words are within her just as always
only this time she can’t feel them cuddling her.
can’t feel them loving her.
She can’t connect to them and see that they are there just as always
only awaiting for her to wake
thedrabble.wordpress.com 
Beautiful.
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Thank you very much dornahainds
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You have captured the essence of writer’s block well.
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Thank you very much LuAnne. I wrote these lines as I was staring at my beautiful blank page unable to write a thing until that one moment when my subconscious mind had a few words to tell me.
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As a fellow writer your poem really struck home. There are times when the words are just below the surface and yet cannot be accessed.
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Thank you very much Moshe. I could not agree more with you. I have been going through such phase recently. I was nonetheless content that I could still write only about my blank page.
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I fear this loneliness!
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I do also but I also believe that words are never too far from us.
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When wounds are near
Words are nearer! 😀
Some words just found me and got published!
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Reblogged this on English Lit Geek and commented:
The words are waiting…
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You captured the frustration so well.
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