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nothing
nothing i feel the need to write, but my mind is as blank as a midnight highway the steam rises up from the asphalt like the words floating right out of my brain if i had artistic talent, it would be so much easier for me to express myself the words just do not come easy to me anymore the words escape me like a little furry mouse running for it’s life away from the cat chasing it i sit down to write and even though my heart bleeds, my fingers are still if i could photograph my thoughts and make them into a book, i would i would bind…
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The Woes of Writing
Writing anything is hard enough, but trying to put thoughts into a story the way I see them in my head is difficult. I typically start with a story and then build the beginning off of that, but then I tend to start new stories because the ideas I have won’t fit into the current story I have going. I guess that’s not only the woes of writing, but the woes of having a mental illness as a writer. My anxiety gets the better of me a lot of the time. I have so many ideas, but I struggle with trying to get them down on paper in a fashion…
