Often Obtuse
I don’t get like this often
When it happens, I feel my heart soften
My body shivers with discontent
Not sure of what I am meant
To do, to feel,
to show, to create
to say, or to reveal
I find myself like this again
Many times ending with a migraine
I don’t know what to call this
This profound feeling of abyss
Sighing, because I accept
That I am done trying
Often, I am dismal
Sometimes, genuinely blissful
But only when I find inspiration in you
For usually, you make me happy too
Palms intended to produce
Have ran out of use
For I, the creator
Have hit a block
That has made me feel utterly obtuse.