I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

I never thought I'd matter
To anyone

Until you
Came along

And changed my perspective
Of the universe

You made me feel
Like I matter

And I'm grateful
For you.

Who can I turn to
When I feel like there's no one
Who will hear my words
When it feels like no one listens
Who will hold my hand
When it feels like no one even sees me
Who will hug me
When I can't seem to stop crying
Who will talk me through it
When I shake and rock
Who will wipe away my tears
When they flood down my face

I send you a message while you sleep
So that when you wake up
You'll know I was thinking about you
And at the end of the text
I leave a single heart emoji
Not because I want to tell you
That I love you
But because for me they are a symbol
Of affection and warmth
Just something to remind you
That I care about you

the last time he went out of
his mind he liked it
so much there
that he never came back

not even after the
alcohol left
his blood

he keeps writing to this day

addresses women with 'sweangel'
a combination of sweet
and angel, I guess

but never spends more
than a matter of weeks
with any of them

some take pity on him
and some morbid curiosity

but no one loves him
truly
only his insanity

but that handle was made for his hand
hand - handle
handle - hand

the fingers would close
around it to never let go
It had to have flesh around it
at all times
But the blade...
the blade was still naked. He couldn't let
the blade naked
It wasn't fair

"So that's why you stabbed your
mommy then?" the psychiatrist asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"The knife is more important
to you than mommy?"

"The knife listens. Mommy doesn't."

If you close your eyes tight
The tears take longer to fall

Breathe deep
Inhale.....exhale

There....the pain was never there at all