#68 On making art that turns my boyfriend off

Also: Hi I'm back, really.

I am not a poet, as you probably know if you’ve read only this sentence. I can’t even make the claim that I’m “into poetry” because I’m not. I don’t have a favorite poet, I have favorite people who happen to make poetry, and I mostly love the poetry I love because I either love the people that make it which causes me to actually engage with it, or because I follow them on Instagram where I can’t help but ingest it, or something like that.

I don’t believe I’ve ever said “That’s my favorite book of poems!” and if I did, I was lying¹ because I don’t have one because reading a book of poems is my personal hell. I listen to Audible books on 2x and while that’s not mutually exclusive with reading poetry, it is for me.

The point is, I am not into poetry? Which is what makes it so totally fucking confounding that I not only made a poem, which is bad, but also that I shared that bad poem with the subject, which is my boyfriend. On our four month anniversary. That I think only I was celebrating. T…