POETRY: Dissatisfaction

by Michelle Spiziri

Getting into bed.
My writing will never be read.
I may as well be dead.

Dissatisfaction bruises me.
Bathed in darkness and emptiness.
Nearly every moment feeling lost and lonely.

Over-analyze every action I take.
Regrets haunt my thoughts.
Failure and rejection make my heart and head ache.

Reading, research, interviewing, writing, repeat.
Classes, seminars, network.
Leaving me incomplete.

–by Aimee Steele

%d bloggers like this: