What made me …

What made me in the first place?

What drove me to rip myself apart?

Why do I feel less like what I used to know?

Something changed. Something dark.

Bones broken

Heart done

My imagination either has left me or something inside is dying

I don't know

No one does

They say stay in the fight

They say I have talent

They say I inspire others

I'm happy about these things

Hopefully some day I can have my own space to create

Now I have some infliction to dispell upon myself

Must find that spark

Must get that light

Must not die

This is too important