Letter To Poetry

Dear Poetry,


Why do you come in the most inconvenient of times?

In between breaths

Or in between lovers.

Because those are times where I find no Inspiration without perspiring.

The times where you're deep in the sea.


Why must you come from the 2 AM blues?

And not from the 6 AM giggles.

Because now all my poems are depressing

And not worth listening to.

You come when no paper is around

And my arms are already covered in

Little reminders.

And I can never find you when I need you.

You always seem to be hiding in the wrinkles

Of my cerebrum.



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