the poet's words are terribly weak, and his mind so terribly sore and dry.

those words without luster do not pierce the thick act of life, and do not interrupt the rhythmic rotting of metro-corpses as they live lives thrice lived and lived over again.

words dulled and dumb, like word-plugs, deliver no pleasure, and those who try to force them into the tender pink cochleae of springtime azaleas are rapists,
the worst kind.

the poet's words are terribly few,
the volumes that once came forth, like falling floods, now spat with force from
fearfully pursed lips.

the words shiver and dissipate like glass upon contact with the broken floor, writhe flinch and eventually curl up into burnt remnants of clay "animals."

what once could have been a
zebra, dog, or sparrow takes no audible, tangible shape. and the pulse, if there is one, cannot be heard over the deafening croak of silence, for these words are as good as dead.

Sad soul looking for something in life to inspire me
Used to be
Nothing could stop me now
I'm just too ******* tired, see--
Life with ease
Just isn't in my expertise  
"Could you be less dramatic, please"
Not really, actually...  
Usually
I don't talk about it--  
I keep it to myself
Hide all my problems on the highest shelf
Note to self
If you need help
Pop a pill and let it melt
Watch as colors blur and stir
Forgotten feelings of
Pure bliss
Weightlessness
and happiness
you thought had Died
along with your innocence
It's ******* isn't it
But picture it
You are a blank canvas
You are a lotus flower
Rising from the black abyss
Blooming zooming moving
Towards the top and the sky doesn't exist
But clouds have a funny way of providing more than just rain
The white is stained with pain
You feel like all your molecules
have been rearranged
The world looks strange nothing in it's right place
It's cool just go get *******
Let the poison erase
All but a trace
Say goodbye to this place
You're moving on
Way past gone as you try to remember what it was like
To feel normal
Like lyrics of a forgotten song

I feel stranded and I feel watched.
Like a prisoner.
I hate it.

the words aren't building right,
the syllables are off and
it doesn't sound right,
no
sad isn't the word,
it's so much more,
blue isn't the right color
nothing is rhyming and i'm
running out of time
and why is it sometimes so hard to write?

When you try and try
how can it be
life's not easy for me
When you give your all
still it's not enough
there always wanting more
can't they see
Ive got nothing else
**** my bones clean
If you want
there's nothing I can do
I've got nothing else to give
I try I try nothing is all
I'm coming up with
You can't know my pain
I live with it everyday
Wonder why this hell
won't give me a break
Can't it tell I'm doing my best
can't it just let me rest
I need a change
I'm begging for change
A little happiness
Why is it not for me
Why am I not worth
as much as this life
Where can I hide
Where can I find
a little peace
I work and can do
just about anything
I have a soul it is kind
my intentions are good
So how do I stop the bleeding
it's ripping me apart
I feel like jumping
I feel like not breathing
would then I find
at best a little rest ..
© Jennifer Delong 3/6/18

Your thoughts go blank
Nothing seems right
Nothing is good enough
Or it doesn't make sense put together
You want to write
To spill your guts out onto paper
But you don't have the words to make it happen
I have writers block.