i've been walked like a dog with the noose around my neck used as a leash and stabbed with a sword dripping wet with regrets. these retreats stain the pages i emptied my heart out onto, kind of like the kids my age with those glass bottles do.
the only difference is while they're throwing up all of that poison at four in the morning, i'm throwing up your name, every last bit of shame, and the parts of me that i will never reclaim. they wake up with a headache and a hangover on sunday afternoons but i've woken up with same one everyday for the past four months that comes from something that was probably just lust.

the thing is, i'm getting better.
you can see my lips curve like the slight waves in a lake on a rainy day instead of looking so flat like the boards of the floor inside an old abandoned house that resembles my heart.
you can see the sparkle in my eye like the spark on a lighter when you're trying to set your lungs on fire instead of pieces of sheet metal that you can see hell reflected into.

every once in a while i'll have a thought of you, and then i remember her too,
and i know you're not the person i once knew.
i smile these days and we both know that i never used to.
i hope when you see a graveyard you think of me and know that the memories of you are now buried six feet underneath me.

Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.