for all of us who know
the pain of valentines
that never came
whose secret sobs
leave a teardrop stain
and hope next year
won’t be the same

i'm the worst kind of poet
the one who doesn't care much for rhymes or anything else
traditon is not something i'd conform to
but i do appreciate it

here's the thing
i am the worst kind of poet
because in my words
it doesn't have to rhyme
but it has to make you feel something

it doesn't have to be the most intricate of language
but it has to tell you a story

a story that is most probably mine

here's also why i'm a bad poet
i feel too much and am too much
or simply not enough
i'm either too interested or not
too in love or without a feeling

here's more
i'll tell you thr truth
but romanticize the pain
say something,
and its complete opposite
i'm a living paradox
the worst kind

i'm the worst because i'll simply say
that

i miss you


i love you


i hate you


are poetry
and i sure as heck am not

To you who were first among the rest:
        You gave me my first taste of soft, supple lips. You were also the one who opened my eyes to heartbreak. I loved you and my heart has yet to forget you.

To the one who came next, the one second in line:
        You were a diamond in the rough, often overlooked.
We clashed like fire and water, creating steam that fueled our loved for one another. We would go back and forth, sometimes for hours on end, trying to convince ourselves we each loved the other more. We never did discover our answer, but can something infinite be bested?

To you thrice in line, most recent in time:
        You hold galaxies in your eyes, you are endlessly creative and imaginative. You were the one who struggled with life, but who never let anyone else face life alone. You always knew just how to leave a smile upon my face. You were gentle and caring, but protective with love, I was never going anywhere expect by your side. We ruled OUR world, creating our perfect future together... I'm still realizing that perfect just isn't.

To you who shall come fourth in line, now or in future times:
        I wish for it to be you who holds my hand in life and to be the one who holds me memory till the end of eternity.

build a bridge
so others can walk to you
and you won't drown no more
in waters that swallowed you before
so others may reach out their hands
and so that they may save themselves
build a bridge so you find help
no one can heal you
if they are tired from swimming upstream to