Dear poetry,

You've been my constant companion although sometimes I see you as a straight line drawn with a pencil and a ruler transecting the circles of the world or as a finger piercing smoke ring, casual and inquisitive.

In sickness and in health,
In depression and ecstasy,
In heartbreak and love,
You've given me a world of peace.
A world where composition; written or  spoken, for exciting pleasure by beautiful, imaginative or elevated thoughts.

A world where I vent out without judgement.
Where i can be who I want to be and write what i desire. Where I peacefully inscribe and breath life to my imaginations with ink.

You've become my addiction, drifting me to peaceful oblivion where my sorrows come to pass and my joy evolve.

I can't take any action. Because your invention has become part of my composition.