Writer's Block

This writers block is horrible.
It's destroying my insides like a parasite.
The words are inside, beautiful they are.
Once I reach a keyboard or a pen
They escape and are replaced by third grade
chicken scratch.

It's so difficult to have those words
In my head.
Not being able to rid them, I can only describe
it as a unimaginable headache.

When I see the wonderful things that help
me make it the next day
like blackbird's
or a sunrise
or rainclouds
or her
I want so badly to articulate what is racing through my jaded skull, I can't.
My filthy hands can't grasp what
my worn out mind is ordering.

Getting to my keyboard always a step behind,
it depresses me. I regret losing all the ideas that I have had.

it's fine though
I suppose
nothing lasts forever.