Hemingway bleeds.

"writing is easy enough, you just sit at a typewriter and bleed" Ernest Hemingway.
I am no Hemingway
and I hardly bleed
I have wounds
but they do not bleed
I am not articulate enough
to let my self cry
or bleed
or let loos
or clutter
or end
or fall
I am stale and stationary
and I have forgotten
the definition of sadness
and cold
I am eaten away by the molds of
a dull
dull
life.
no matter
that I am born
with the knowledge
that I will practically do nothing with it
knowing where I am and where I breath.
no matter
that I am born
with the most ancient wound
that is nothing short
of sheer end,
I do not bleed.