I used to be stuck
in a place where there was
a drought of affection
love through imagination
happiness as a theory
zen as a concept
and so
I created
I made works
They were
my family
my lovers
my friends
my whole self
Now
I am
Stuck in a place
I can’t write about
with no inspiration
A place of
learning
enjoying
exploring
being
Happy
There is nothing I need
to create
I feel at the end of some road
facing a grey tall wall
I don’t know whether to
try to knock it down
or turn around
When I think about it
my head hurts
nothing flows out of it anymore
I didn’t realise that
when I lost my pain
I would lose my creativity
At 28 years old
I start again
Just as I wanted
A bit too old for the system
A bit too young to know
what to do next