nothing i feel the need to write, but my mind is as blank as a midnight highway the steam rises up from the asphalt like the words floating right out of my brain if i had artistic talent, it would be so much easier for me to express myself the words just do not come easy to me anymore the words escape me like a little furry mouse running for it’s life away from the cat chasing it i sit down to write and even though my heart bleeds, my fingers are still if i could photograph my thoughts and make them into a book, i would i would bind…