Wanted A Solution

I don’t really care and I have no direction,

And I finally understand why I rarely write.

It hurts when I write just for me,

And I’m too lazy to write for others.

Writing for others is easy.

But when it’s between me and me,

Tension rises within me, and it hurts.

It makes me choke, gagging on the words

That should escape my lips, but instead

Flow from my fingertips.

If I was maybe a bit more focused

I could write, but I’m Having trouble finding

myself,

So here I struggle.

I must balance the evil and sweet,

Cynicism and hope,

Sexuality and sentimentality.

I can’t find a stable middle ground.

F**k the ending line,

If I knew a solution,

I wouldn’t have written about

the problem