A writer who can't write

Here it is again,
The feeling,
The craving,
The need to do something,
Bring something alive.
A sensation of drowning,
Suffocating in your own fear,
And the overwhelming anger
That tears me apart from the inside.
When there's a need to create
without the tools for it.
When you know it's not meant for you
but the need eats you alive.
And then the despise,
The empty sadness that's left
When these words are written
And they are not what they should.