Losing My Fire

I sit with my pen and paper, and nothing happens. All the stories I want to tell and the things I need to say, I can't.

My hands are stuck. The paper is blank.

I used to be able to conjure up any emotion I needed to. They came from a real place, but it was easy to remind myself of the memories.

But now, there's nothing.

I am an empty pit, and the fire has slowly burnt out.

No one has noticed the decline in my mind, but it is real.

My words have faltered, and that's where the problems begin.