Week 31

I'm trying to write
And the block rises up again,
Victorious and proud.
I don't want to wait
For inspiration again,
I don't want to be buried
Under those dark depths
That depression took me to
That made beautiful words fly out
From within my throat,
Guttural and pure
The command I held onto rhythm
And sound,
Unparalleled.
And now I'm stuck,
Locked into place
By apathy,
By being happy.
There is a lot that is poetic
In the way he feels me smile
When he kisses my cheek,
I just seem to have trouble capturing it.