{"sf1_id":1864437,"sf2_id":"qmy4a2Pe","title":"STUCK","author":"Kiah Z","words":457,"posted_at":"2022-06-16T15:29:00.000Z","tags":["Poem","Story"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1864437-stuck","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/qmy4a2Pe","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/0d/82/0d82ba2a-5a76-45b7-b29b-4fbee76c6913","description":"A poem I wrote last January. Then forgot about until I found it today.","content":"STUCK\n\n  \n\nI can't write this late.\n\nIt's getting blurry...\n\nThe alcohol?\n\nNo, maybe I need a goodnight's rest.\n\n  \n\nI get all my good ideas now,\n\nAt 4:56 AM my eyelids get heavy,\n\nBut my brain stirs,\n\nIts more active then its been all day.\n\n  \n\nI can still taste the sting of the scotch,\n\nI imagine the smoky amber on my tongue,\n\nI want to vomit,\n\nI can't.\n\n  \n\nI'm not even drunk,\n\nI haven't been,\n\nHaven't had a drink in over a decade,\n\nWait was that contradictory?\n\n  \n\nWhat is this?\n\nAm I writing about an alcoholic?\n\nAm I writing about me?\n\nAm I writing just to write?\n\n  \n\nSometimes the most disturbing things,\n\nAre a writer's delights,\n\nIt's in them we can find human moments,\n\nThe honest to god truth of the writer and his characters.\n\n  \n\nScenes like a massacre,\n\nA cheating husband,\n\nA patient in hospice,\n\nThe scenes of so much inspiration.\n\n  \n\nA skull getting cracked,\n\nA scene of horror,\n\nHas more adjectives,\n\nThen a love scene.\n\n  \n\nIs this all pointless?\n\nI'm just writing into the void...\n\nTyping into a laptop...\n\nIt's 5 O'clock in the fucking morning.\n\n  \n\nWhat is the purpose?\n\nTo exercise my brain,\n\nIs this like- writer's Viagra?\n\nNO\n\n  \n\nIf I wanted something to jumpstart my creativity,\n\nI'd look at my stressors,\n\nOr a stressful time,\n\nOr a dark time.\n\n  \n\nA friend who lost someone,\n\nA friend who got lost themselves,\n\nA friend I had to lose,\n\nTo be a better person.\n\n  \n\nIf anyone ever reads this,\n\nMy friends,\n\nYou'll know which one of these people you are,\n\nI mean you no offense.\n\n  \n\nOffensive words are like a razor,\n\nThey can cut,\n\nA razor cuts deep,\n\nBut is small and can be hidden.\n\n  \n\nWords can cut like knives,\n\nA single word,\n\nWords combined to destroy you,\n\nHarder then a nuclear bomb.\n\n  \n\nAt least the bomb is a bomb,\n\nYou can't blame it for blowing up,\n\nEven if it kills you,\n\nIt's served its purpose.\n\n  \n\nWell that's fucking depressing,\n\nPeople's words hurt,\n\nBecause we expect those dear to us,\n\nTo speak kindly.\n\n  \n\nWhen they don't- that purpose,\n\nTo be a friend,\n\nA parent,\n\nA brother.\n\n  \n\nIt's blown away,\n\nUnlike the bomb,\n\nHurting isn't a purpose,\n\nBut enough about this...\n\n  \n\nMelancholia,\n\nMelancholia,\n\nMelancholia,\n\nStuck in a never-ending cycle.\n\n  \n\nGood can inspire too,\n\nBut more often than not,\n\nIts drowned out by the black tar,\n\nThe black tar of existentialism.\n\n  \n\nThis whole poem is black tar,\n\nWould that make a good title?\n\nHmm\n\nWhere was I?\n\n  \n\nSex,\n\nSex is an easy way out for a writer,\n\nReaders love reading it,\n\nJust as much as the writer enjoys writing it.\n\n  \n\nOr maybe not in other cases,\n\nOh fuck...\n\nToo tired to continue this,\n\nTomorrow.\n\n  \n\nThat's what I always say.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}