These Words

With every word I write,
I cross it out and start again,
The words are there,
The words are clear,
They just won't come out
on paper.

I close my eyes,
I remember a time,
When the words flowed
from the pen.

And now they are stuck,
The pen is like my mind,
Clogged full of thoughts and feelings,
Too complicated to make sense from,
Too painful
to record.