The key to me.

Why are my words jumbled now,
all my thoughts awry?
Writing is the way I cleanse,
so why have I run dry?
I cannot quell the chaos,
there’s nowhere left to go.
No chink of light to guide me,
If the words inside can’t flow.
All alone in limbo,
drowning in the dark,
in overwhelming loneliness
and emptiness so stark.
These are simply surface words,
I haven’t found the key,
Without it there is no release,
and no way back to me.
I don’t know how to focus,
I’m in turmoil every day,
But I know that it won’t change…
until I write what I can’t say.