what is it that I keep fighting
my head up against this wall.
what answers do I keep wishing
would grace my aching mind.
what words do I need to hear
that will release this wicked hold.
that confusion has laid upon me
that has pinned me to the floor.
why am I walking around in this fog
dizzy from lack of sleep.
lying awake and writing stories
on my ceiling in the dark.
if you could see the blank page
as I see it from inside these eyes.
you would see the potential of lifetimes
that will never have the chance to live.
word after word and line after line
are running from end to end.
the blank spaces becoming smaller
no more room for any of this.
words are chasing me like an addiction
and producing a reaction in me.
a racing pulse, *a sweating heart*
a need to somehow be free.
I feel feverish and shaken
rattled most days on end.
I’ve taken to the constant reading of words
to try find what I cannot say.
it’s not for lack of fodder
my god, I’ve an endless supply.
it’s a lack of getting to the heart
of what is eating me from the inside.
the answers I want, quite frankly,
I know will never come.
I want you to tell me that what I felt
was actually something real.
I want you to tell me it mattered
to someone more than just me.
but so clearly and so sadly spun
that story will never be told.
*thanks to Jenn Whetton for this line*