8. not bad enough

can’t stop looking back
on the days where i had
poems dropping almost
every day, i’d put out an
album, then jump right to
the next one without any
time off, i would drop two
projects in a week while i
was working on the third,
fourteen whole albums in
a single year and then the
fifteenth was written and
ready to go for 2019, felt
like i had something new
for you guys all the time,
but now it’s taking months
to crack these new ones.

i think it’s because i’m
not doing bad enough.
i write when i’m down
and feel like i need to
say something, but life
these days is going well
enough that i just don’t
feel down quite as often,
so when the anxiety isn’t
affecting me as hard, it’s
easier for me to get stuck,
and that’s when i wonder,
“what do i even write now?”

i can’t ill out again and get
mad, because i’m not angry
enough to do it, and i don’t
have much to flex, either, so
where do i take these poems?
as much as 2018 sucked, at
least it gave me stuff to write
about, things i could get off
my chest, but now i’m in this
creative rut, worried that any
poem i write will just look like
a recycled concept, and that
sooner or later, i’ll break under
the weight of high expectations.

i guess this is the life of an artist.