I struggled in the past
To write a respectable rhyme
More I create the harder it gets
Have to put in increasing time
But this is the first time in months
By far the most in years
Inspired I have felt
It's all thanks to my tears
Bad news is I'm crying
That means more pain
Root of excellence isn't sunshine
For me it's pouring rain
Meaning hidden in the suffering
Can't feel good 100% of the time
Otherwise things wouldn't feel good at all
Without other to compare it to
Is no difference between short and tall
I express better in shades of sorrow
Than I do in colorful rainbows and bliss
Negative emotions waiting in my soul
I try to verse happiness
Doesn't come out sounding truly authentic
That's because it's forced
Words meant to gallop freely
Not corralled
Coerced
I suffer writers block in moments of peace
In a way I'm grateful we are apart
Won't lie and say I'm not bothered by it
At least the result is some beautiful art

rustic brain calls upon late a night, wishing things will be done by the breaking of dawn.

oh, how i wish these sleepless nights could end in a spur. for years i have calculated, but have not documented those hideous moments to ever enter my sight. everywhere i look, a bickering thought arrives as if a group of chattering teeth lines through my mind when i'm suppose to be at rest.

in this shallow moment, let this end.
in this shallow moment, let's stop crying silently in our bed.

and as the morning rises, we could see brightly of the horizon. forgetting it for awhile until it crawls through at night. an unending cycle that causes a lot of fright. as if our brains lingers to the thought too tight.

rustic brain will soon heal
or so, or just life's haunting thrill

My soul separates from my being when you are not with me
when you hug another my heart faints, falling deep down my guts
something start stopping me from breathing

I can't think straight at any given time
I am volatile to my own expressions
My emotions can not be contained within me

My mind needs to be set off from my deepest worries