Sometimes I'd like to cut myself to remind me of ourselves
If I apply pressure to the wound it'll stop bleeding
It's the only way to stop this feeling
It's the closest thing that resembles me embracing to tightly with our fronts softly headbutting.

The last drop of fuel
has vanquished within the fog
of vacuous steam,
and the words are asphyxiated
by the author's incompetence
before his toes even tap
upon the starting line.

It's even a hassle
scribing these simple words
without grinding my teeth,
headbutting defeat,
and fixing the channel
with which I once could
transform the bulging of veins
into the unraveling of stanzas.

With a pitter-patter here
and a tick and tock there,
the hourglass spins itself towards nausea
and still no denouement
from a muse that replaced burning passion
with a scalding charcoal mind.

How could I let them get to me?
How could I let them make mockery
and triviality of the art
held with the greatest sincerity,
leaving me a pigpen
of unanswered questions
tinged with urgent frustration?

Did I really just end this with a question?

Sadness is a badness
A disease of desperate unease
An ugly difficult anomaly
That brings me to my knees

It enters the room
On its own terms
Without a warning
As welcome as germs

Like a kick in the ******
It hurts like hell
Bringing on the confusion
Of words misspelled

I can't ****** help it
What do I do
It grips on so tight
Like a terrier with a chew

A minute, an hour,
A day, sometimes a week
There's no rhyme or reason
For how long I feel bleak

And bleak is how I feel
During the spell
Bleak, numb, disabled
Desperately unwell.

Single, solo
Alone, on my own
Deeper and deeper
Heavy as a stone

I don't want it to happen
Not ever, at all
Like rabies, like syphilis
Like headbutting a wall.

It changes my mind
And the way that I act.
It makes me go silent
I feel like a ****

I cancel appointments
Welch out of dates
Then worry for ages
That I've upset my mates

My pain, my heart ache
Nobody knows
They may have similar
But they don't have my foes

So next time you see me
And I'm not quite myself
Please give me some space
And wish me good health

Please give me some time
To get back to being
To get back to feeling
And hearing and seeing

For when I am happy
My world is amazing
And when I am sad
My world is hell raising

Sadness is a badness
A disease of desperate unease
An ugly difficult anomaly
That brings me to my knees

I am a myriad of emotion
A tower of confusion
I love him,I love him not
I chose self over  him yet hate self destruct at his memory

For us time should have stood still
We loved like eternity were our slave
How do you tell time to stop doing its beautiful work?
To stop headbutting us into rooms bigger than ourselves
To stop beckoning us to destiny's call

Time should  have stood still
But I guess Grandpa Clock has no favorites
...no matter then