Writer's Block

poem that ironically came out of my writer's block...

Why can’t I write anymore?
What’s stopping me?
Is it because I’m happy?
No longer in agony
Or is it because I’ve blocked it all away
Too scared to let out all the pain
Why don’t I cry anymore?
Is it because there’s no need?
Or is it because I’m all out of tears?
A question pops inside my head…
What exactly is happiness?
Is it to smile from inside?
Or is it all a huge lie?
Is it just a temporary high?

Will tomorrow bring me
A heap of misery?
Maybe that’s what I need
An emotion to feel
Even if it kills me

This positive outlook bullshit
Only keeps me alive for this moment
What happens next?
When there is nothing left
But the lies I told myself
What happens next?
When I’m all alone
In this self-made hellhole

Well it hurts too much to describe
And I am too weak to fight
The demons inside
As my  self  slowly dies
Yet I still can’t seem to cry…