Fill fill filler.
Trite turnabout
right about now.

Wait.
The pen won’t pen.
Fingers fail to function.
Figurative false alarm.

Flow shift-step.
Unruly rules
of writing.

There are no rules;
fuck the sham.
These words are self-aware.
Their own entity.

Every syllable is a poem.
Every thought is a poem for its author.

Fail to follow this flow.
Pine over rhyme’s lack
and cringe when it attacks.
Mish-mashing of ideas.
Rehashing, splashing
across the page.

Mental mastication.
Chewing your mind’s favorite thought
and spitting it out. Partially.
Self-censorship.
Self-defeatism.
The self speaking solemnly
to save itself from
unpleasant judgements.