At a Loss
I am forgetting how to express myself.
A myriad of possibilities presented:
hand, pen, pencil, paper.
To type away my fears
yet no control over creativity.
So I will hide below my shadow;
a sullen shroud of secrets.
Eager for release,
clawing and gnawing at my mind -
anything allowing me to peek
from behind this veil.
Every moment I stretch away further
from myself: the artist I used to nurture.
So where is the resolve?
My fingers remain stagnant.
A pathetic excuse for creation.
Copyright © Alexandria Doll | Year Posted 2008
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