Writer's block is like a stutter
The words want to come up.
Each letter claws its way to the surface.
Each moment that passes by seems like a silent eternity where self-expression is forbidden.

Cordell, too sweet to tell you,
I'm on the road to the places you've been before.

I see you in a sentimental way,
Through landmarks I've memorized.

I saw you as the thoughts faded away,
And imagined great adventures if you were here today.

Cordell, your flower wilts evermore,
Within the chasms of my spiraling mind.

You stole the cadence of my heartbeat:
Your dead blood flowing through me.

I was once a singer, a famous rock star
Every one loved me, I was so very popular
Sang with the best, up there on the stage
**** Jagger, The Beatles and even Jimmie Page
  I sang in all the big cities, all over the world
  I was so happy, being such a star, a popular girl
  Making so much money, but I was running amuck
  Forgot my friends and family, I didn't give a ****
No one else mattered, I was the important one
Forgot about my husband, and my dear little son
The things that really mattered, I'd lost all sight
There were lots of groupies, and parties every night
  Lots of *****, men, and the drugs, were never short
  If I ever felt bad, some powder I would snort
  No one ever told me, that I was doing myself harm
  By injecting all that ****, into the veins of my arm
I'd awake some mornings, feeling a ****** mess
But after some drugs, I became again, a Goddess
Everybody loved me, I was their favourite daughter
I thought the same, thought, I could walk on water
  One morning I awoke, all shattered and broke
  No alchohol to drink, and no grass for a smoke
  All my friends deserted me, left me for dead
  Said that I was definately, ****** in the head
It was all over, my life of ***, drugs and fun
My husband had long gone, and took with him my son
I had bought it all on myself, of that, there's no doubt
Spent a week in hell, just crying  and drying out
    I had lost everything, my good looks and my wealth
    And I was skin and bone, not a picture of good health
    Broken down I was, all drug ****** and spent
    Dragged myself outside, to the hospital I went
For weeks I was there, in bed on a drip
The truth and reality, I wanted to grip
Slowly I came good, to God I needed to talk
Then two weeks later, I could finally walk
    I'm living in a rehab center, at this very time
    Please don't worry about me, I'll be just fine
    I'm now a faded angel, don't deserve a lot of glory
    Just hoping that someone, learns from my sad story

Self criticism.
Awkwardness.

Conflicted personality.

I spend hours on end
perfecting my looks.
Eyeliner to energize my eyes,
blush to bring affection
into my smile,
compassion,
and pink lips
to mesmerize you.

But inside I'm a storm raging
of self doubt.
I have demons inside,
that I can't hide
by my superficial skills,
no matter how hard I try.
It doesn't work.

What's wrong with you?

I thought I was fine.

But you're not. Do you hear yourself?

I'm talking to myself. This has become normal.

How come some days you're fine? You're energized,
lively, fun, and outgoing?
Then on others, you can't even get words out
loud enough?
I don't understand myself anymore.
But I'm trying. God, I'm trying.

I'm a mess.
A scattered mess. I can't breathe.
What do I look like to other people?
Do I care?
I'm causing my own demise.
I'm digging my own grave.
I am my own enemy.
I am my own worst enemy.

A girl who's trying to balance herself.

Your poetry
Etches a way into my heart
Corny but truthful
Your art
Leaves pictures in my head
Beautifully meaningful
It really is too bad
This isn't meant to be

My favorite part, before the white falls, is the second the frost covers it all

My favorite part, before crimson rises is the second before you feel the sting

My favorite part, before the grey comes, is the second the sky is still blue free of clouds

My favorite part, before you say you love me, is the look of passion that fills your eyes

My favorite part, before I wake, is feeling the rays of yellow fill the room

I like the moments before action happens,

I enjoy being in a constant state of euphoria

being allowed to be happy with no *******

I even enjoy coming down from a high

The happiness becomes even more real

And then I wake up