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There's nothing for me to write about
No tense exploits for me to share
Nary a conflict to transcribe electronically
Nor an erection inspiration for you to care

I fear my life has isolated itself
A Sargasso Sea of graveyard thoughts
Addiction's become a generic brand
New love isn't grown, the feeling's store bought

I bang my head against the story
Maybe my life needs metafiction
Puberty exited my brand new thoughts
And fiction's evolved into constriction

Maybe insanity is the way to travel
A road shared by one and some
Turn boring 'me' into energized 'we'
Make 'our' powerful master come

Perhaps I was a caterpillar in yesteryear
Excited by everything in my experience
Perhaps I've entered a chrysalis state
Waiting to butterfly into the witness

Who knows what will blossom into tomorrow?
Maybe I'll find the love for that I long
I might have a thousand works in my fingers
Or maybe I'll wake up wearing a thong

I desire to fire up forge level heats
And beat at my block with my mentallic pick
Mixing my fiction with the truth in stories
The decision of importance might do the trick

My work's only as furious as I demand
Ergo, my spurious mutterings sputter
If loving my musings pushes to inspire
Then let my curious thundering flutter!