I have begun to scare myself a little bit. I have taken to writing as real as possible stream-of-consciousness, well I guess they would be poems, before I go to bed. the results are weird, dark and don't make any sense at all. here's an example:

she whispers to me
you are dead
it's ok, I am too
we grope for each other
in the dark
my voice is stolen
by her faith
maybe we'll find each other
we reach out
in the dark
the mud is thigh high
and our touch isn't pure
contact is stolen
a village inside a cave
a whore at the door
she lets us in
me first, her behind
under the rock
below no sky we are together
"you can stay as long as needed
but you must fuck always"
we leave after two months
no tragedy here

what the hell is that? I think the thing that bugs me the most about it is that it isn't very good. it just seems like emo crap. there is still that part of me that wants to just be naturally gifted at writing, for everything that comes out of my pen to be good. I don't really want to be great, well, that may not be true. but I want to be good. to the point where I could make a living out of it and do nothing else for the rest of my life.