i am not editing this

I am writing this poem because I've deleted my last five poems
I will nto delete this one even if it continues to be as horrible as it is now
I wrote that last line with my eyes closed because all of my energy is going towards making new ideas
Once you realise you are good at something there's a lot of pressure to continue to be good at it
Every time I open a tab or flip a page and empty space butterlies come rushing at my head I wonder
if I've lost my spark
Mayvbe I'm not a poet andymore and my grandfather will have nothing to talk to me about
Maybe these words will stop being published and our fridge will sink back to bare 
PErhaps everyone was lying when they siad how it moced them and I am finally waking up
I am not going to spell or grammar check this one because I need to prove tomeyself that I am still chugging out poems