Pain (9-Jun-1997)

I found this one in my journal and it was a particularly dark period. In the journal it was unpunctuated except for the opening sentence. I have added a period to the end of each line. I don't trust my original instincts given my state of mind at the time.

Pain

My brain hurts.
I want to write verse but all that 
    comes are the broken words.
Half-formed thoughts.
Nothing comes together and yet I must
    continue.
To stop writing would be to admit defeat.
I just want to sleep.
To forget.
And yet my life continues.
It’s useless.
I can’t even write verse.