I have completely slipped the grip
Where there was once creation and imagination
There is dull grays and heavy blues
Stagnant.
An atmosphere who's lullaby is silence
I get angry
I thrash at blank pages
Shatter unresponsive ink onto white walls that have no recourse
Then cry
Then rage
Then cry some more
These days are wearing thin
Underneath it all I am vulnerable and raw
I need you to see that, to hear this, to know me
I want you to stop treating me like I am dry clean only