Log:2:2:3 Fucking poetry. Fuck it.

I'm finding it really fucking difficult to write about my family. Really, really, really fucking difficult.

And difficult to write poetry. Fucking joke. I don't want to write poetry, I can't, I have no truck with poetry. It doesn't sit well with me.

Fuck you, poetry.

I sat for about 2 hours last night with a blank page in front of me, unable to write a single word about my dad. I then tried this morning to write about my brother, and a similar thing happened. I managed to get a few words out, focusing on description, but most of it was about how I felt. The trouble is there are huge spans of my life were these two closest people are complete strangers. Even though I grew up with my brother, I begin to realise when I write that I never really knew him in a lot of ways. Everyone in my family was a stranger to everyone else, or so it feels - i never knew a thing about my mothers past, nor my step-fathers, and my brother spent most of his time saying "I don't know" and not wanting to "get involved". And we all ran away at some point or other. How the fucking blue jesus am I supposed to write about that. "Write about someone you know well" it says. Fucking joke.