Writers Block

Musik: Dream On - Matthew Morrison and Neil Patrick Harris
Kleiden: Purple top I stole from my sister, black skinny jeans and super-pretty necklace Laura got me ages ago.
Filme: Nowhere Boy (Taylor-Wood)
Buchen: Fail.

I haven't posted in a while because...well, basically I haven't written anything good. I've written, of course but it seems like everything I was writing was the self-indulgent bullshit I'm prone to at times. I get into this spiral of self-pity and my writing suffers because of it. It becomes very self-involved and not interesting in the slightest.

However, I did manage to create a poem stemming from this feeling...

Not a Bird

So you think, so you think
Well, that’s a new one!
I rather thought
That thoughts appeared
Independently of the thinker
Floating about
Bobbing on strings
That extend from the ceilings, floors and other such things
Peeking out from behind each door
Nevermore, forevermore
Do birds speak?
I certainly don’t like to
I don’t see why they would
But they capture thoughts
In their wings
As they blow about in the wind
Occasionally I reach out a hand
Grasp one as it struggles
To be forgotten entirely
But most of the time I can’t fly
That’s the only problem
With not being a bird
I should like to be clothed
In midnight black feathers
Sludge brown, bright turquoise
Dark tipped, fluffy white
Speckled, plain, striped
Strange to have a beak, I imagine
Peck, peck, peck
Yes, I cannot quite get the hang of it
But wings! Ah wings!
They’re there to let me fly
How high, how high I am
Incredibly, impossibly so
Here are all the thoughts I’ll ever need
Right up here in the sky
Such a shame
I’m not a bird…a crying shame