Writing in Progress

It all starts with a feeling.
One I can endure no longer.
After a few simple words,
I stand feeling much stronger.
My mind is cluttered with things
It becomes my mental disease
Trapped inside a cold asylum
Having to live with my insanity.
My creativity speaks for itself
As I'm fighting over teardrops
When I start to feel empty
Writing is all I've got.
I have to make the best of it
Or let it take the best of me.
With every word I write down
I satisfy my every emotional need.