I have stories in my head,
and dreams deep in my heart.
and every fucking word,
simply tears me apart.

I have plans made up in ink,
and I drudge through them with gloom.
but every fucking word
just fills me up with doom.

I'm a paper marked up by pencil,
but the red pen bleeds on all.
because my thoughts are fucking worthless,

and when I speak, I stall.