I have nothing new to say.
Days go by where the sky presses down
like an iron blanket on a mind
made of glass.
Pass the time with words of inspiration
to peak motivation in others,
unable to do the same for me.
Be content with the knowledge
that you are young,
that I was once you.
I have nothing new to say.
Catch the words buzzing in the air before they buzz away.
Take comfort in the emptiness in my brain,
the blank spaces where ideas once nested
and rested their weary heads.
Still...
I can have an idea
about what the absence of an idea
feels like.
Is that so strange?
Still...
still is how I stay.
Never moving,
but always sensing change.
The time will come when I can say that I
have something to say again.
The moment will end
and the life will come instead.
But, for now,
I have nothing new to say.
Still...
Sometimes having nothing to say
is the best way to make people
listen.
