Nope, this work doesn't have a witty play on words for a title this is a sketch brought into life through sentences and verbs stanzas and commas aren't going to be used I'm just writing what's been on my brain.
ahem
I'm honestly pathetic I write but I'm stuck in this rut I can't seem to get out of every time I try to escape I knock myself back down through some stupid mistake or placing in the wrong person for certain I know I'm a ***** up but that's not how I grew up I can barely lift a shoe up that's how week I've gotten I don't have a physical disease but a neurological demon and if it sounds like I'm complaining I'm sorry but these feelings I've left too long on the stove steaming
the pangs of being unmoved and unloved are steering me down a dark lonely path I can't keep it too myself I have to ask am I worth it? is my gift my curse because I'm horribly sensitive that's how I learned to place in verse but releasing that pain brings up more that I've bottled I'm not writing this to be coddled or babied I just feel as if I'm going crazy like 187 dogs with rabies
I'm like Stan, Eminem's biggest fan, the morning clouds are on my window but I can't see where I'm going anymore I know life is the greatest mystery and part of the joy is in discovery, but I've done my homework and realized I'm only human after all so why stall? why should I travel on only to get knocked back into a slump or a rut again and have to start all over again?
When can I stop hiding my pain from the world?