Surrender

What is this?
I cannot write.
My brains have
crumbled piecemeal

turned to mush when past
that mark, those three hundred and sixty words. 
It will not go!

Mossy, mule-minded thing.
See if I care that you leave.
Yeah, go on. Get.
Who needs you anyway?

O god of words, I've failed you as a writer.
Only poetry awaits.