un-creative mind

I feel as if all my creativity is gone. Nothing remains and my well is run dry. I can’t create. I can’t think up. I search but never find. The thing that gave me inspiration i dont even know what it was. So I can’t find what I never knew existed like a myth. That’s what it was my so called creativity was a myth and nothing more. No desire, no motivation. Lifelessness in its prime. Can’t create color when all I see is black & white. Walking in blind stepping on mines laid carefully in a row. One after the other. My life is bleak with grief. I try to cut the grief out but my knife is dull from this entire mind numbing ugh! The only word that comes to this uncreative mind. All the smiles have been misplaced because my smile is broken, got lost can’t find its way back. Why would it want to come back to the face of a burdened body? Warm hands of creation turned a cold, bitter slave to un-creativity. So what do you need now what’s thy order your fucking majesty? How may I serve your fucked up desires. Apparently I can’t do nothing but fill yours since I can’t find mine.