Word: Anything
I couldn’t come up with anything
My mind was robbed of everything important
And my thoughts had no nectar
And dripped dry
There was no tingle
Giving way to new ideas
Only a thick lump
That sat somewhere between
My heart and throat
I could write it off as anxiety
But this was more outrageous
I’d grown far from my originality
My creativity
My stern will to explore
My curiosity
I was losing me
I lost my meat
I gave it up for the regular
Nothing exquisite or spectacular
Just to be seen and perceived
As one of those ordinary
Beings
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