Writer's Block

A candle flickers
warm light casting shadows
on his tired eyes
and wasted cheekbones -
skin burning with unfulfilled inspiration

he knows
he knows
that writers always need personal experiences
but his is too painful to bear
as his destructive muses -
regret, fear - loneliness -
whisper from the dark chambers
of an unbalanced mind
they dance their dance
of unspoken guilt
and desire that never was

- this is to a girl who got into my head
with all the fucked up things I did -

his eyes turn bloodshot
as the vodka sings to his muses
turning them into cackling screams
that echo
echo
in a wasteland of forgotten memories

the candle flickers and dies.
he closes his eyes
hears the echoes
and lets the unrelenting screams consume him -
for he knows
he knows
his soul is dead