Nothing's going on, my poems seem to have transformed into loose thoughts gathered together that don't really sound pretty anymore. It's kind of sad.
I think i'm forcing things out that aren't there.

The words I want to say,
could drive you away,
yet they remain,
demanding to be released,
is there a possibility,
you might share this immense intensity,
it's getting hard to pretend,
these feelings aren't tearing at my insides,
struggling to pry themselves out,
how can this be fair,
we act like friends,
but so much more lies behind,
itching to be unleashed,
while you're dreaming of fame,
i'm dreaming of your kiss,
and all the things it would bring.