I’ve hit a barrier
Between good a mediocre
A matter of writing well
And being able to produce
I know it should come from the heart
But call it heart burn
Because I’m burnt out
And can’t say the words I need
You’re rubber I’m night
My words bounce and hide away in the dark
Coming from the shadows
Snaring me like a hunter
And while I’m pulled as a bird from the sky
My doubts flood me
And I just have to ask myself
Is this the life I wanted?
I probably am going to slow down on posting a bit soon, just general stress building up, but I’m all good just gonna lower rate of release soon