Haven't Written A Thing In An Age

Picby Marc Lionhart12 Dec 2014

Dried up, like those who know can adhere
I keep projects locked up until they die
Not really feeling the poetry vibe of late, take to the drink and hum for inspiration, maybe coax coherence from one sauce or another
I learn from myself
Others learn from magic, I see through the illusion and laugh at the colours, only thing left in this world of a diverse nature
Play instrumental beats, or the speakings of madness, sanity never offered me anything to go on
Creasing my face at writing, letters and such
Writings of love, passion and sex
A sickening sense of self-promotion, I'd rather not, I'd rather play an instrument or paint
I can do neither of these things particularly well
Bukowski can fuck off, I love the man but I'm tired of being second best
As it flows it'll get better, but until then it's fucking nonsense
I don't feel too well
My brain aches
I have a foreboding lust attached to me, I crave the depletion of emotion
The unity of my words left me long ago, and now I wait for the next godless poem