[wolfbittenpoet]

It is madness
To stare longingly at blank page
Laying on ink stained desk
Like a lover who has neglected you
Yet still craving the feel of silken flesh you follow
Desperation dogging you
Until finally with shaking hand you pick up the pen
Like a razor you lay it to your soul
And you rip out words that only angels and demons should ever hear
Until with tear and sweat stained agony you have given your release
And you throw away the pen in disgust
Your just another junkie in this fucked up world
And your addiction seems so innocent
Except in the dark of night where sleep won't come
Unless you pick up that pen and scream in silence