I've gotten so unmotivated it's getting irritating. How come I can't write a poem anymore without staring at a mere blank page for hours on end? How come the simple act of getting out of my bed has become such a challenge? Why must I always feel down even when I'm around those who care? The universe has always found a way of forcing me to push myself past my limits, my comfort zone. Yet it's now exhausting to constantly go through the day burnt out and detached. This is a hardship I do not believe I can go past this time.














