I used to write poetry
on the nights
that I was lonely,
or heartbroken,
or drunk,
or plagued by memories I didn't want to admit were me,
or nervous I said too much,
or too little,
or conscious that I often come across as condescending,
or so hypocritical I condemn myself within a run-on sentence,
or arrogant and pretentious and defensive,
or disillusioned that I deserve better when I know I don't,
or considering looking you up but its been years so I won't,
or reading something I wrote before,
or thinking of you,
or thinking of you,
or thinking of you,
or drunk,
or artbroken,
on most nights I went through all of them,
on some nights none.
I used to be poetry.