Failed Poetry Attempt: Continuation of a Poisoned Past
It's been a while since I have really been able to finish any piece of writing. It's been a while since I have really had any sort of urge to write. It's been a while since I even had any ideas whatsoever. It could simply be a lull in my creativity and productivity, which is always bound to happen - especially after what has been a significantly productive period of my life in terms of writing poetry. It could be that my extremely shallow well of ideas has finally run dry, something that I thought had happened many times over already. It could be that my condition has worsened beyond my understanding, leaving me a hollow, thoughtless, numb husk of wasted space. Without my ability to write, my purpose on this earth is rendered void and I might as well finally do what I've said I'd do for most of my life now; snuff it out, end it all, force myself head first past the precipice of nonexistence. Maybe I have blood clots forming in my brain, maybe my brain is slowly rot
