I'm creatively constipated
I'm emotionally exploited
I'm mentally devastated
I'm physically shell shocked
I claimed my independence
And I received severance
I mourned the loss of a god mother
And I received peace from a grandmother
Love lost
Love spent
Love cost
Love rent
Scatter brained
Not making sense
My spirit drained
My mind is tense
Creatively constipated
Emotionally exploited
Mentally devastated
Physically shell shocked
I've been trying write
I've been trying to cry
I've been trying to be happy
I've been trying too hard
Maybe not to hard
Maybe not enough
Maybe my mind is spent
I've lost my trust
I was robbed of my sanity
I was raped of my creativity
I misplaced my dignity
I checked out of reality
Reserved a table for my demons
And indulged in the past
I forgot about the present
And lost my appetite for the future
Lost interest in myself
No self esteem
No self worth
No personality
Just a shell
Lobotomized by life
Surrounded by darkness
I found comfort
Only in complete fog could I find myself
Only in this erie mist could i heal myself
In my dwellings I found a crustacean
Who shared tales of his
courage and perception
He gave me inspiration
Relieving my creative constipation
Alleviating my mental devastation
Leaving me physically Inebriated
Drunk off the thrill
I regurgitated my thoughts
I filled the page with my feelings
My writers block unlocked
Creatively nauseated
Emotionally illustrated
Mentally renovated
Physically emancipated
My words were once again my words
My thoughts were once again my thoughts
My feelings were once again bleeding from the page
My pulse again quickened from the lust of the cuts
Bruises from the paper
Battle scars from my pen
My inner writer has awakened
Now let my future begin
