For a Long Time Now

For a long time now no words come. The pen is poised, the anxieties momentarily pocketed, cigar and drink at the ready and.... Nothing. The melancholy and fear of death and non-stop running of rabbits are all still there multiplied ad infinitum. But nothing. My insomnia and scatteredness have attached themselves like siblings and have won whatever it was they waged upon me. I simply cannot get comfortable.

My skin is too tight and it pinches when I turn to see what is behind me.