Nothing's Write

I don't know what to write,

This is just not right.

I can't really breathe,

Because I feel the breath,

Of something,

That is all wrong.

I am left with something living,

Yet dead.

I don't know what it is,

But,

That is all I can say,

But it isn't?

But why should it be?

My mind is louder than ever,

But my pen,

And my mouth are silent,

And if not confused.

I can't sleep,

It's hard to eat.

My thoughts lead to good,

Yet with each is a stigma,

Which is flawed,

And damaged.

How am I to talk,

When I can barley sulk,

And ouch when I walk,

Up the steps,

To my room.

Help,

Don't want it,

But need it.

Comfort,

Want it and need it,

But don't want to search.

Negativity surrounds,

So don't want anymore.

So won't look for positive,

Cause something could hurt,

And what's worst,

Not looking is hurting,

But I don't,

Or can't,

Do such,

And there is nothing,

That is pulling me there.

Nothing,

But hate,

Anger,

Confusion,

Frustration.

How can I bee good,

When I can't eat food,

But I can.

My tooth hurts,

My headaches,

And quivers,

With beat,

Of what's dead,

Yet keeps me alive.

I am blathering,

Cause I have,

Nothing to write.

Yet everything.

But why?

Why?

Don't know.

Do I care?

Too much.

Is that my problem?

I don't care.

Think,

Feel,

That is all I do.

I can't drive,

Because there's a hole,

In the whole,

Front of Little Blue.

Is that the whole problem?

No it is not,

It ain't the problem,

It is just a multiplier,

To the numbers,

That are against me.

Most times it adds up,

But sometimes it is a,

Positive that gets multiplied.

The truck,

Positive,

Losing it,

Multiplier.

Motocross,

Big number,

Losing it big multiplies.

Idiot said something,

You can do something,

Right,

A bunch,

But one wrong,

Takes all those away.

That is the one thing,

That he enthrust in my life.

I'm in the negatives,

Somewhere.

The two big positives,

Became multipliers.

Damn forgot,

Other big positive,

Is a multiplier at all points,

And every once,

In a while,

Throws out a positive.

OK there was something,

But does it,

Mean a thing,

I don't think so.

Ohhhh!

Another story told,

Another glad your ok,

But damn it,

That's not the point.

That is Little Blue,

That is a piece,

Of my independence,

A piece of me,

A big plus.

More words written,

But has anything,

Been actually,

Wrote.

I,

Am what?

Ahhhh!

Great question.

No answer.

The way I like it.

Ok almost forgot about,

The people that I picture,

In my mind.

Before the accident,

Two straight days,

Of DD.

Now in the haze she there,

But sneaks back in it Julie.

Then last night,

The cursed one,

Asked me about Fruit.

She had barley crossed,

My mind.

Yesterday we had a pop quiz,

About me.

Two of those were named,

One left out.

The one that I know so little,

But seem to be the most wanted,

Although so young,

And so in Wheaton.

How will I go after any?

Too much to lose?

Do I have anything to lose?

Who knows?

All I know,

Is nothing,

And that is all.

Can't think at all,

Because my head hurts,

And my finger is inked,

And damn it I'm itchy.

So I haven't wrote,

A thing,

And nothing is written,

Do you understand?