Tortured Artist

I usually only write poetry when I am depressed; yes, I am a horrible cliche -- the tortured artist.

And sometimes reading a book will inspire me and I will want to write. I will have words bumping around in my head trying to get out for days. Sometimes I will write some of them down, but sometimes they will just bump and bump until they give up, and my brain goes back to thinking the "normal" way.

But I suddenly feel like a switch has been turned on inside my head, and everything is prose trying to arrange itself on the written page. I wake at 1:30 am to feed my crying baby, and I am composing lines about her tiny hungry mouth at my breast. Not that the 1:30 am stuff is any good, but the point is that I can't seem to turn it off. So I thought instead, I would try to actually get some thoughts put down. Little stories, poems, etc that come to mind.