writers block

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Blank pages,

I've never got past that stage

I saw myself coughing stardust while setting my lungs up in flames

These phases,

Almost never come to fade

They were cycles recurring every lifetime after my every counted death

If I could retrace the steps

Heal open wounds to make meet the ends,

Maybe paradise would be more real and less only in my head

A state of mind they say,

Why does my flesh hurt though I haven't cut in days

I haven't touched a blade or a bottle of gin

But my insides are scorched,

I live in hell and I can't come to ignore the pain

My mind spirals out thoughts that birth darkness from a void

Depression like a cloak but my smile tuck my eyes in to hide what no one really knows

The confusion starts when I could swear to anyone that I'm finally happy,

While the darkness in me lurks around like a dog on watch chasing away any light leaks

- writer's block ( the note )

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