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pen blocked.
inspire me
let the chosen words bleed
from my imagination, into a cloud
possibly the cloud of smoke
surrounded by me now
I arise with wanting
and end the days
lying awake, needing
and the only thing that's worse
is spending the time in between
waiting for my insides to come undone
and pour out of me
ridding myself of the chaos
that used to form itself into words
now the balance in my walk is different
I feel cluttered and toppled with defeat
left lacking a reasonable emotional exit
literally, full of myself
how do you live being the
person you hate the most?
I've buried myself alive inside
a prison that I am drowning in
I'm drowning, kicking, screaming, fighting
but it never feels right
it's not enough
stuck within
incapable of release