Why do I hurt?

I’ve lost my imagination, and my creativity.
Those are all I am, and without them, I’m not me.
I don’t know when I lost them, and I don’t know where they went.
All I know is they’re missing, and it feels like my heart is bent.

Maybe I need to force myself to practice what I used to love.
Maybe I need to open up before pushing comes to shove.
Am I who I am because I am, or I needed to be to live?
What can I offer up to the world, what do I have to give?

I set out into the world and lost myself along the way,
I wake from sleep and feel like I’m a stranger every day.
I live in shock as the world isn’t what it would seem.
I slumber to escape the nightmare, while living my dream.