This is how you write a poem.
You close your eyes.
and you forget yourself.
you let your fingers ghost over the keyboard
and you press down
whenever it strikes you.
pick a key, any key.
a real magician never reveals his trick.

This is how you write a poem.
you close your eyes.
and you dive into yourself
you pull a part of you to the surface
and you release it out into the world
whatever part of you is screaming
the loudest part of your soul
the squeaky wheel gets the oil

This is how you ruin a friendship
you let something fester in the back of your mind
you let it grow and change and push
until there is no more space for it in your head
until you've made no more space for it in your head
and you push it out through your body.

I've heard alcohol helps.

This is how you ruin a friendship
you don't think of them until it's too late
Or you don't call them on there birthday
Or you laugh while you dance on their grave
Or you think too much when you hear their name
Or you give until you've given it all away
Or you play too hard so you lose the game
This is how you ruin a friendship.

I wasn't joking about the alcohol.

It's not because it makes you do things that you don't want
You don't wake up and immediately feel ashamed or regret
It's because it takes away the part of you that thinks about other people
It's only about what you want, It's only about you
(it's my party and I'll dance if I want to)

The regret and shame sneaks in afterwards
from the same corner of your mind that the force came from
and it's not that you regret your choice.
Or that you don't maybe want it to happen again
It's just that you remember there are other people in the world.

Sometimes I hate that there are other people in the world.  

But only because other people matter so much in the end.

This is how you write a poem.
you take something in your life
you talk about it with metaphors and similes and flowery language
until your pen is falling of the page
until it's so vague not even the paper knows what you are saying
Do you understand that?
(is it crystal clear?)

Poems lack clarity.
I don't regret it.
I didn't find it weird
Actually, I kinda like it.

I'm worried that saying it so many times has made it seem like a lie
Something like me thinks the lady doth protest to much
It's not a lie
But he is not the audience of this poem
It's you.

I don't know if I need to apologize.
I'm worried I might.
I told you once that I have difficulty being a good friend
I hope you don't believe me now.
I hope you don't believe me ever

This is how you write a poem
you find a friend who writes better than you
and you try not to *****  it up for long enough to pick up a few tricks.