Writer’s Block

I try to write but the words fail.

Sit, think, smoke, exhale.

As I reach for the coffee cup,

I wonder if my time is up.

Have I forgotten you,

Is that what this is?

The reason I can no longer write this shit?

Or could it be this depression is finally lifting?

Maybe the all encompassing darkness is shifting?

Perhaps after all this time my heart is mended.

And my love affair with words has ended.

Cops & Robbers

Caught with
my hands
in the
sweetie jar
I retreat,
shamefaced,
when I
hear a
police car…

Who the
fuck has
called
the cops?

I’ve only
stolen
a couple
of pear
drops…