I’m good at poetry, I just don’t like it very much

“I’m good at poetry, I just don’t like it very much.

It’s one of those things where if you do it enough for school, you get just as good as someone who likes it.”

He said to someone with graveyards in his Google Drive of word vomit that wasn’t perfect enough to submit,

He said to someone who tosses and turns at night that he’s away from his keyboard,

He said to someone who spends all day wishing, wishing, wishing for that shiny, see-through feeling to come back and knowing that it might never,

He said to someone who has to accept that his gift might go away.

He said to someone who fought tooth and nail in second grade to read a single chapter book,

He said to someone who stayed in at recess to finish writing one simple sentence on a whiteboard,

He said to someone who talked his mother’s ear off with stories,

He said to someone who always played pretend the longest and the hardest on the playground,

He said to someone who sees stories that he knows he can’t tell yet, behind his eyes every single day

He said to someone who sees little black constellations on the white paper.

He said to somebody who isn't very good at poetry, not at all,

But my god, 

My god, did he say it to somebody who loves it.