Suffering At 11 a.m.

I am not writing well today.
I am in the offbeat season of silence, 
there with my fingers typing away 
as I delete almost every sentence.

I try to write something lively, 
something grand and magnificent, 
but all I end up with are these 
senseless, horrible syllables.

I remember feeling this way
many times in the past;
it is a horrible place to be. 
Nothing lives — nothing breathes.

But someday, someone might read these words 
and they too will suffer at times,
and maybe this will comfort them,
so I’ll let it be.

-2013