Where Did All the Words Go?

I'm going to try to put to words what the last 10 or so weeks felt like when I sat down to write.

I sit down, close my eyes,
and dive deep within myself
searching for inspiration.

What I find instead...
grief,
pain,
and sorrow so profound, so oppressive,
no words could possibly encompass
the overwhelming melancholy.

In the pitch-black feelings, I could find no words.
My first instinct was to run from it, and I did so for a while.
No sitting down to meditate. No prayer calls. No stillness.

Eventually, I recognized my need to face it.
So I sat with it, waiting for the state of overwhelm to end.
When it refused to subside,
I chose to escape again through work,
through TV shows,
or with sleep.

I figured when the time was right, I'd begin writing again. But I admit, it took longer than I thought. Even now, I feel rusty. I feel like the words are hard to come by....like they don't want to be found. But I'm ready to try. I'm ready to begin my daily practice again.