Bleed From The Spleen

I have nothing to offer

like the author 

who cut off his fingers,

self-doubt quietly lingers, 

now I’m just aging

with nothing to say

and now I’m just fading

in disarray, and now 

I’m just ingesting 

the stagnation every day,

and now I embrace

my dismay, you’ve got to 

bleed from the spleen,

you’ve got to come clean