The page, a canvas
The pen, the brush
Creativity, the medium
Heartbreak, the inspiration

A coffee mug and a Monster, both empty
Paper everywhere
Where are the pens, again?
It has to be black ink
This is a routine, it is sacred

Scribbled and crossed out words
Some to correct rhythm
Others to hold back
'Restrain
Contain your thoughts
Don't lie, stay true.
But don't give too much of you'
Avoid vulnerability, but don't be cold
Approach the microphone
Watch out. Almost hit the guitar on the wall...
Again.
Turn this level up, this one down
Turn everything else off and just

Listen
Is that your best?
Another take?
No, we're done
You're done
You're the only one here
Close up shop
Go home
Oh, you already are home
Thank god it's not an office job
Leave the room and wash up
Water on skin replaces the sweat
Soap attempts to make you feel clean
Don't look up when you get out of the shower

Music, the only mirror you will hold up to see yourself in
Your reflection,
A man and a monster
Both empty