It’s not you, it’s me. I know we’ve been going strong for quite sometime now but to be honest, I’ve found myself very unhappy with who I’ve become. I know we’ve gotten immensely comfortable with each other but in comfort, there is no growth. So I need to start taking risk. I need to start coloring outside of the lines because it has the potential to be something magnificent and beautiful. And if it isn’t, that ok too. Because chaos doesn’t always have to lead to madness, for there is truth in chaos, and that is what I want to find; my truth, my voice, my story.

I’ve held myself back because of this fear that I am not good enough, that I don’t have what it takes; that I don’t actually have anything important to say. But there’s something inside of me; something strong and powerful that wants to be heard. So who am I to cage that in? Look, I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t afraid, because to be honest, I’m terrified. But I think I need to live in this fear for a while to really understand what I’m capable of. I need to push myself and expand the dimensions of who I am to be able to see what I can accomplish.

I’ve been so focused on not failing that I stopped trying. I found solace in your presence and made excuses to not writing. But I can’t be that person anymore. I’m sorry Writer’s Block, I need to set myself free.

What is it?
Never happens to me!
Quite the opposite,
I can't keep up with
the storm of words in
my head constantly screaming..
"Let me out"

]i built a wall
]to block your love
]because i’m not
]deserving of.

Feel like I went
somewhere wrong
People look but
they don't hold on
And I so crave
for interaction
For a poetic
intersection
I can't
stop writing
It's reverse writer's block
that I'm fighting
When all I can do
is oversharing
the pressure in my head
is overbearing

I know we are all
most interested in ourselves
Standing tall
in front of our virtual bookshelves
Not much wrong with it
It's only human nature
we wait for our creations to be a hit
so we feel a little bit more mature

Our intentions must be
somewhat the same
Am I wrong in thinking that we all
want a little bit of fame
Maybe the word falls short to describe
I mean we all want to be seen
Make a small impact, "please subscribe"
Everyone wants to be part of the scene

Oh but "I don't care what I am",
that's not what I do
Ah but unfortunately
that's not even half true
I didn't care much when
I started out
Simply because
I wasn't so proud
Of being able to write
my most inner thoughts down
and still call them
my own
And I still don't feel
proud in comparison
All these beautiful souls on here
This lyrical ship has quite a strong garrison

But it makes me sad and I wonder
about some of you
and that's why I started to ponder
cause I have no clue
What does "a follow for a follow" mean
If that's all we do
what does it matter, why so keen

Do you think it's only fair
I follow you, you follow me
But I want you to really care
To click because you want to see
Silly little adventures that I share
and who I want to be

I still strive to feel connected
I read of you
til I'm feeling like everything's collected
Is it too much to ask to wish you'd too

my mind is in knots.

there are so many twists and turns
that I can’t seem to follow
and I’m getting frustrated.

where is the start and where is the end?
and why is it so confusing?

i can’t sit still—my legs want to get up and go
but my brain is too tired for that right now.
i stay seated and try to untangle what is
the big grey lump in my skull, trying to figure out what it’s trying to say.

but it’s illegible and i can’t,
like a foreign language I don’t recognize.

hopefully as i spill out on to what was a blank sheet of paper i can break through those knots and maybe comprehend the load of thoughts running through and around each other in the space of my body that has been assigned to them.

i only wish i knew for certain that there would finally be a break through and that i will know what I should be knowing.

gathering myself might help as I feel as if
i’m spread across a massive surface that
i can’t seem to find all the pieces of myself on.

but how can I find myself when I barely know myself?

when i find out, i’ll let you know.

My mind is full
Yet my page is empty

-Writers Block