I Have To

Writing is a gift,
But when left unattended,
Transforms into a curse.
Everyday, every time, every line, every rhyme.
You're addicted and you can't stop.
You try, but your mind reacts like you've committed a crime.
You start to tear yourself apart from the inside.
You try and try but every time you try
You die a little inside.
This is the last time, this is the last rhyme.
But it's not.
You'll reach for the pen and paper again.
And again, you'll say that this is the end.
But it's not.
Day after day your mind will be at play.
Weaving reality into fiction until you can't fight it anymore.
You're torn.
Remain in a world where it's fair game,
or create your own twisted domain?