Burning inside, clichéd metaphoric anecdote

I hate how you can’t relate

To this phase I’m going through.

X

Spare me the pitiful apologies,

The senseless touch, the bitter taste,

I’m not like other emotion-driven fools.

X

I’m a closet writer, you’re my darkest secret

This pen is my lover,

Together, we’ll make a masterpiece.

X

Inspiration is fleeting like the moment,

I’ve done it all, there’s nothing left to cover,

I can’t put feelings into words; I’m not what I used to be.