shake me up

Someone do earthquake poems with me because I feel like I'm slowly withering away drying up, my fountain of youth,

creativity, tapped up and empty. I don't feel anything anymore though these nerveless fingers jab away

at the keys, trying to fit something together, but nothing. na da, zilch, kosong.

Shake me up, toss another shot, straight to the gut, I'll aim carefully for the loo

when I puke, don't worry, It's all (not) under control, and that's okay, that's -

alright, I'm just another kid, young stupid and insane, cranked up on hormones and deprivation

of sleep, sex, and soul.