I am at a loss for words.
As I have lost the inspiration for my madness,
The words written are less truthful than before.
Like a broken machine of repetitive symbols and meaning.
The wretched world winding my words into worthless wit.
No.
Meaning.
The blank screen taunts me.
Intimidating me,
tearing me apart in search of that last string of words.
The last bit of hope that something inside me will spark a flame,
A fire that will grow to burn me from the inside out,
Setting the world around me ablaze,
killing the monster that is uncertainty.
About the Creator
christina digioia
18- mostly poetry
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