Stuck, A Conversation

"How many poems can you possibly write about writer's block?", you ask.

I chuckle to myself.
"For every day where the words don't want to come,
where my brain is in a fog from hunger, exhaustion, or mental stagnancy,
when my fingers refuse to type out more than gibberish,
I will write about how difficult it is."

"Huh, well if you can do that,
then why not a regular poem?
One of the non-stuck-on-scribbling variety?"

I shake my head.
"If I could do that,
then I would.
I wouldn't be stuck on this topic."

"How do you get un-stuck?"

I shrug.
"Good question.
I'm in a week-long bog.
​Maybe this poem will be the one to free me."