The talk


Hey. About last night. We need to talk.

I’ve really enjoyed hanging out with you lately, and you’re always a blast, but I have to ask, is any poem as important as a good night’s sleep? Is it? Because I’d much rather we hung out during the day then at night. In fact, any time of the day is great with me. But once I’ve gone to sleep, I’d prefer to stay that way.

I know that sometimes you can’t help but wake me, and I can handle it now and then. But I want you to know something, if you keep me awake at night, do not expect me to keep jumping out of bed to write down everything you say. I won’t do it anymore. The ideas will have to be there when I wake up, or lost forever. Unless of course you bring them back the next day, which again, is fine with me.

But don’t be sad. We can think of the poems I forget when I wake up as “poems of the moment” – like a flower blooming without anyone seeing it. It still has value.

Oh, before I forget, really Muse, why the angry political poem last night? Do you honestly think I would post that? People say they want you to be honest, but they don’t mean it that way. Get a grip.

And hey, chin up. I really do like you. I’d be sad if I never saw you again. But maybe we can have more daylight time together and less night time… time.

You’re the best! Hope to see you soon!

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