Not Inspired

I'm starting to realize that the only time I'm inspired to write or sing is when I'm not myself.

I have to cheat and lie just to feel the need to get it all out.  

Why is it that way? 

I'm living my dream with a beautiful home, amazing husband, and the love of our lives living inside me. 

So why do none of those precious wonders make me want to write.

I don't have to do this to be happy, but doing these things make me happy. 

I guess being happy makes me boring. 

Or being with you is expression enough.