A Poet's Agony

There's a poem sitting in my chest that I cant seem to get out. It refuses to give me rest. 

Every once in a while it would come around to the back of my mind and smile, like a naughty child playing hide and seek. I think it is having fun doing this to me. Very slowly and painfully it would leak a combination of letters from its essence, like hit and run, and stand back and laugh its head off while I struggle to make sense out of that phrase, to put appropriate words in place. Bloody poem.
 
And now my space key is sticking. This is beginning to befrustrating. The poem has moved to irectly behind my eyeballs and is engaged in a tug of war with my nerves. My right eye is twitching, an it looks like my dddd key is also sticking. Shit.
I probably should put down this poem and get some sleep, but insomnia has got me under lock and key and now this stupid poem is running around my neck. It set my eye free though, I guess ishouldbe thankful for little mercies.
 
Bloody spacekey.
 
Alright. Looks like im getting some respite from the poem, but then i remember my boyfriend who no longer is. The jerk dumped me cos he flew to another country. Of course that wasnt thereason he gave... Aaarrrrrgghhh the space keytoo kraaa!
Oh ok. I get where the hit and run phrase comes in. Ok. I probably would be able to write this poem now if only i could concentrate, but the truth is ive kinda lost interest. Is there a word like demotivate? If there is ive been 
demotivated.
 
Ill ber ight back.
 
Ok so i went off to havea conversation with the poem. It looks like it finally understands me - ok not exactly.
You know what, i give up. Have fun with my eye, ok. Do what you fucking will. Fucking poem. fucking space key. Fucking dddd.(it stuck again)

I think Im hungry. At this point i will gracefully bow out of your mind...thank you for paying attention to a poet's agony.