signing off today

suddenly
i dont feel like writing poems anymore
don’t want to be naked anymore
dont need the hassle
don’t have the urge
but it’s not even that
i want to, but i can’t
and it’s not that i don’t appreciate the praxis
and love it’s freedom or know it’s impact, i do
and it’s not that i won’t continue
to venerate poets and their work
i’m just signing off because really
my sartori means i’m not that good
or not a poet anyway
as i watch or rather sense the muse
pack her bags and mock the worlds
i leave behind today.

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