My Muse Pokes Me With a Sharp Stick

She's merciless and she's unkind.
She's shameless in her methods used.
She has no fear of my undoing
And she will not long be ignored.

Awake at night, my body's sick
But I'm unable yet to vomit.
I hold back what I feel but yet
I don't feel what I'm holding back.

I haven't written for days.

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