Have you been writing lately she asked?

Mostly staring blankly, pen in hand I reply

The writing prompts running through my mind

follow one after another

To the cliff edge and throw themselves into the void

Each brilliant idea dismissed with a

No that’s too 

This or that

The hope of distraction from this sour mood

rapidly being shown to be wishful thinking

I began the day lost, wandering aimlessly

And time has not been a friend

Adding guilt to the sense of waste

Waste of a commodity in short supply.

The passage of time is relentless

Yet invisible,