In the middle of the night

Yet again i sit and write

To pour my heart out

Beneath my phone's bright light

I bled for eternity

It's still not enough for a masterpiece

Does it matter how i feel?

How much i feel?

I drain every bit of emotion

To blacken a single page of poetry

It was easy initially

My fascination lasted longer this time

But as time went on my reserve dried

I need to hurt more if

I want to

Continue to write