I Must Create

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I have no value,
If I am not creating.

People praise me.

Tell me I’m “prolific,”
“Hard-working,”
“Motivated,”

This is not motivation,
This is compulsion,
A desperate need,
To make something.

Like the addict,
Looking for another fix,
I must create,
Hold in my hand,
Something that I can call my own,
Something that others will look at,
And celebrate.

I don’t feel like I’ve done that yet,
I am the mad scientist without a monster,
The kind they don’t make movies about.

People tell me to relax.

But how can I?

I have yet to leave my mark.
I have yet to do something special.
I have yet to make myself useful.

I have created things in the past,
Frivolous,
Silly things,
Things most people didn’t seem too interested in.