Letters to Myself
When will I get writers block?
I would like some soon, please.
I have other things I need to do
Other tasks I need to complete
I don’t want to keep being
Bombarded constantly by
Poems and songs and prose
Tears and snot
Pouring from my nose onto paper
Dripping and warping my love letters
No one is getting them, they’re for
Myself. I love myself, but I don’t know it
So I have to write letters to me
In order to show it.
Mostly, I just wish for
A bit of silence in my head
I have so many poems
Pounding out so many rhythms
Melodies clashing on top of each other
Goddamn, let me out of here, brother
I need help, and it’s not anything
A doctor could sell me
I think I’m supposed to be
A writer, an artist, a lover
A loser with no money in the bank
Just thoughts, feelings and
Emotions overriding my plans
Just let me write,
Until I feel alright.
There’s no other way