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Compulsion
August 7, 2017
Addicted to writing,
I surrender to the fantasy I created.
Stabilize my prose
Or wreck it?
Developing the plot,
I struggle with a protagonist and antagonist.
Get hooked on a surprise plot twist
Or a straight story line?
Reeling from withdrawal,
I am bleary-eyed searching for a remedy.
Woken up now in a cold sweat
To aid or disrupt my creativity?
Stuck in that moment,
I feel powerless.
Left to cope on my own,
After reluctantly vanishing as the creator.
© Tabatha B., Peoria, IL
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I wrote this poem about feeling deprived of creativity when I get started on a piece but don't know how to finish it. It shows my frustration about working through writer's block before I get jolted back to reality and dealing with my own life.