writer's block

i sit on my bed,
a pencil in hand, 
a notebook balanced carefully between my legs,
not a single idea about what i should write.
i can't think of anything.
the pencil won't write the
words in my brain that i 
want to say. 
maybe i can write about you.
but i don't really want to.
this is so annoying. 
i put my notebook away and
pull out my guitar.
maybe i can write another song.
but instead my voice is stuck in my throat.
this is really annoying. 
i put my guitar away and
pull out my journal.
maybe i can write about my day.
but nothing happened.
this is not fun. 
i put my journal away and
pull out a sheet of paper.
maybe i can write about this. 
...
yeah, ok.
i'll write about this.