Nothing changed when I write poetry

I can pour my heart into fourteen lines

I can spend eternity on these rhymes

Doesn't cure what the **** is wrong with me

Even if it takes me a thousand years

To write a sonnet to express my pain

My attempts for relief are all in vain

Still I try to hold back my ******* tears

Who really cares that I wrote this sonnet?

What would have happened if I had done it?

Things this year are what brought me to the brink

How painless: the absence of emotions!

Such relief's an incredible notion!

Already I'm aching to cease to think.



Crawling to the cliff

I know I've been here before

We'll see how it goes