A lot going on

It has been a few days since I have written anything. I needed a break from writing. I was getting sick of forcing myself to write something that I did not know what it means. I am afraid to admit that I no longer know what to say.

The last couple of years I could feel the words of almost anything come out so easy. Then the last couple of months I just did not know what I wanted to say, or if I should say something at all. There has been a lot of outside factors I think played a big part into what I was going through. I have been trying to fight through it, but it has not been a well thought out idea.

Life is not easy, and I do not like to ask for help. I do not like to be a burden on anybody, so I put all the pressure on myself to do it. I do not leave my house I just go to work come home, and think and wonder what am I doing. Is this stupid or worth my time. I have so much that I want to do, but I just can never seem to do it.

Now I think I am ready to write. Pressure has been laying on my side, for years and I have realize that time is running out. There is no more waiting I must go. I wrote a movie, and now I need to edit it. I would love to have help, but I must do it.

Poem: The Untold

My eyes no longer hold my truth.

They have sunken into a place that is full of burden.

Trying to figure out which way to go, but constantly getting lost in each direction.

Not realizing that they cannot go where they would want.

They are searching for the whole that has left my heart.

The place that has all the memories that go back so far.

My eyes are now starting to lie.

They have been telling untruths the day you became a memory.

They stop seeing the now and just looking for the past.

Hoping one day to find the piece that made not stop looking away.

Poem: Write

I keep trying to find the words to write, but I have nothing to say.

I just do not know where they went, but they are no longer in me.

Pen and paper are no longer my friend, and I do not know where they went.

I want to write, but what do I say?

Can I say it, or will it all be a mistake?

I just know right now I cannot write.

Poem: Break

Why can I not take a break?

Why must the world ride my back?

When will I become free of the worries that do not belong to me?

I try to give hope and pleasure to ones that do not care.

Pleasing the people when you are only a body that has no soul.

Leads to the burnout of the flames that heat my soul.

When will it be enough?

Or is it enough?