Somewhere between the smoke and alcohol,
the hobbies and oversleeping,
the binges and the purges
you realize it was never a writers block.
You screamed your words at that page
to let go, to release.
You never expected they would scream
right back at you.
You used to write to let it all out
now you fake writers block to keep it all in.
Just to avoid reading what you feel.
Just to avoid facing your own fears.