Spilled Tea

Recreation

Do you ever wake up
craving the recreation
of a moment?
A feeling?

These moments
feel like poetry.
In most instances,
people are the only
poetic thing.

This dead grass
and sun-faded brick town
are not much of a muse.

In my mind,
it's a dim-lit restaurant
too loud for my liking.
It's usually a chilly day.
Maybe a storm is sparking fear
in the eyes of drivers.

Sometimes, I'm reading
a Harry Potter book.
Other times, it's good poetry.
Both things that are easy
to successfully drown in.

Before these moments,
I dread coming
to these places.
The best memories
always occur
when you aren't
expecting them to.

There must be a way
to replay moments in real life.
There must be a way
to find them at times like this.

Times when I'm yearning
for that type of relaxation.
Times when I need
these memories
to recreate themselves
almost more than
I need anything else.

(This feels extremely unfinished & diluted. It's just the only thing I feel comfortable posting right now. I'm sorry, I love you all!)