at war

She sat there trying to write but nothing came to mind when was what she was sharing too much? Where would she draw the line? Her black coffee went from scalding hot to warm and now it was just cold. The temperature of her coffee didn't bother her, she would drink it either way. She decided now would be a good time to take a shower. She had been in her pajamas the whole day, sitting at her kitchen table searching for inspiration. It was past noon so she made her way to the shower stripping off her silk lingerie. She always preferred to sleep in soft fabrics, it was comforting for her. She got into the shower and turned the knob far left. Steam started to rise to the ceiling. She threw her neck back and let the water run down her face dripping down the curves of her body. She tried to take her mind off her writing. The shower was always a good place to rinse away any negativity she had floating around in her head. Today wasn't one of those days where she could just shrug it off. She thought she wasn't cut out for it, it meaning producing things, creating, writing things that she wanted to share with the world to any one who cared to listen. She dropped down to her knees in the shower sobbing in frustration. When would she gain the confidence? She thought she was stronger when in fact she never felt weaker. Everyone believed in her so it seemed. Others would always voice it in praise of her writing but why didn't she truly believe these words. Why was she constantly at war with herself?