why is it that
i can only find inspiration on the cloudiest days?
what about the days where i'm too busy to think?
what about days where i don't get a moment alone?
what about days where i'm immersed in my art?
what about days where i have it all figured out?
what about days where there's so much light i can't even comprehend darkness?
i neglect my brightest days,
only to be inspired by sorrow and stagnation.