The Things We Do For Love

 I cut my teeth

and my wrists

on the sharpest

turns of phrase,

raining droplets

of my very existence

down on once empty

pages,

giving life the new

worlds forever being

built in my brain,

bringing darkness 

and light, 

sadness and love,

death and rebirth

to endless shades 

of myself 

all thinly veiled

(Of course),

yet lately my

gift fails me 

at the strangest

Of times.

Every idea 

torn into halves

and tossed into

a thousand bottles

to be cast off 

into the blackest

of oceans known 

to man:

that of self doubt.