Hi Sky! This is a great piece and its full of emotions that most every writer feels at one or more points in their writing career. Here is just a few edits for this one. Let me know what you think.
No one cares about what you write.
Your writing is just a crazed infatuation;
brought about by bouts of anger.
With the paper in front of you,
it's a blank reflection of what you are.
Rip it to shreds!
Throw it in the rubbish bin.
They're good at bringing about tears,
and so it goes to show;
They can see right through your irrational fears.
Widow spiders crawling across the windowsills,
scuffling up the abandoned bar and barstools.
The basement is the back of your mind,
Not quite forgotten.
It's where murky things lie in wait.
Don't stare at them;
Because they'll stare right back at you.
A little punctuation, a few rearrangement of words and it's a new piece. It comes more alive and is more readable to everyone (well at least to me)