I think every writer can relate to that need of wanting to write and someones it becomes too much to handle. You described that well. :)

"Your ego on a pedal stool"
^I think you mean "pedestal"

All in all nice write!

I like the truth of the title- but it holds such power that a poet has. I cannot believe I have not come across your poetry before ( that I know of, at least! ) Thanks so much for your kind comment and thoughts on my love poem, it means a lot!

The ending was great, those last words that are unstoppable...that is how it goes, the ink flows in place of blood and you cannot settle.

Thoughtful words, thanks for sharing!
God bless!

Felt like this a lot with my last boyfriend. I know of the frustration you outpoured in this. You really captured the feeling. I enjoyed this piece. Especially the part about the ego. Very well written sweetie. Well done.

Danika
xxoxoxx

Chels,

This was quite the good poem, I enjoyed the concept behind it, it's funny how certain things trigger your ability to write, I too when triggered write constantly, even if I don't like it.

This poem was interesting as it goes through different stages, almost like an addict would, the blood rush to the head when you are on a "high" in this case, with love, and then you move on to the blood rush in the veins like you are "coming down" and then the aggravation and the fustration.. All different stages an interesting way to depict your emotion.

"out comes the poem to you"

I didn't feel like this read right, perhaps if it was "out comes a poem to you" instead of "the poem" because you are talking here about all the poems you write, and the ink flowing unstoppable, and yet you write "the" and I feel like it needs to be plural as you are not just writing one poem if that makes sense.

A good read though
-Mel

I love how you specify your need to write. I noticed this myself, now that I'm in a good frame of mind I hardly write ever more, an dI need to be triggered by another poem/a song, and the trigger is quit fleeting.
But when I'm in a dark period, my pen gets a life on its own and I'm its puppet.

Because this is probably one of those poems you write out of sheer frustration it's emotions are very powerful, but the flow could use some work. It hasn't got a steady heartbeat but a fluttering heart, once pounding, sometimes bearily detectable.

Work on the flow, but don't delete the original one

Good job!