Writing a poem is sometimes easy,
Like writing "Love"
On her palms
With my index finger.
It comes naturally to us,
Like flirting between two humans
Who know poetry little too well
For a normal mind to comprehend.
Sometimes, it's as easy as jamming
A fountain pen in my carotid artery
And fill it with blood to write poems.
But you don't do it,
Because the blood spatter
Will make a mess,
As if Vincent Van Gogh
Painted Red Sunsets
Instead of "A Starry Night".
And sometimes,
We find poetry even when
We're not looking for it.
Like an ex we try to avoid
But cannot because,
We hang out in the same places.
The other times,
Writing poetry is as hard as
Counting the stars
hanging above our heads
With our eyes closed.
Writing Poetry is hard,
Like it's written on my tongue,
But nobody could read it
Because the Language of Love
Is fading out of existence
And we're the only ones,
Keeping it alive with
Poems that are both
Easy and hard to write.
.
.
.
- Priyesh says, "Poems Written On My Tongue."
