Writing from writer’s block.

This empty page. The tantalizing cursor, blinking before the stark white “paper”. I have nothing. No words or infinite phrases are coming to my mind. No words of wisdom or hope are leaping from my fingertips and taking over. I am drained. I have been emptied of all creativity and mind-shaping words. Like a thief in the night, I’ve been robbed of all I have. I’ve been left alone in this abandoned shack-of-a-mind to scramble up the words of another life — to find something that has no longer survived. I am rushing about, trying to salvage the lost — the lost words, times, people. It is hopeless. I cannot resurrect life and this is not suspended animation. Simple water cannot help me now.

– Brittany Rose