I sit here for days on end. Watching motivational videos on how to become a millionaire wondering why I am so lazy. Is it because I have lost all inspiration? Maybe I just lost interest in trying to make an impact. Maybe its just August and it is too hot…

A poem about self talk, and finding the way out of the storm. Demons attack the mind. Peace I cannot find. Chest is heavy, knots in my belly. Civil war. Attacked from all four. Unguarded, mental torment. Trapped in a box in a box in a box in a box…