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So you are at a party and are introduced as a poet. And everyone looks at you....

I'm a poet
Not an entertainer
So I depart this stage
And sit next to you
I will be close
Perhaps uncomfortably so
But in order for us to interact
You must be willing to think
Deeply
Perhaps painfully
About life
Or about yourself
And your situation
However it may be
Because when we part
You will be affected
Not by incredible showmanship
But by a quiet moment
You will be alone
With words
And though they are mine
They will soon become yours
Because you and I are the same
And as I draw you near
We will become one
Not as lovers
But as human beings
Who understand each other
Living together
With a feeling
Because you have become a poet too
And now I learn from you
And read as you write
And wish I could write as you do
But that was my intention all along
And I hope you remember me
As I depart your stage
To continue as I was
Before we met
But before you go
I must tell you something
You will think of me
And wonder about us
But I am only good for one thing
Lonely people
Because the way I live
Is within my own mind
And I reach those who want to be reached
But not those who want my attention
We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.
It's worth it though.
My dearest darling
we were
doomed
from the start,
disillusioned and
dangling
from our
disproportionate
determination,
left to drown
in the
dreams
gone to waste.
I had to look up
the word
'dating'
on Urban Dictionary
because I didn't know
what we were,
what we are.

And it said things like
'a socially acceptable
form of prostitution' and
'feelings of
puppy love that usually
dissolve
in a few weeks'.

But this is
not
puppy love.
This is not going to
dissolve or
fizzle out or
whatever,
you're not a
fizzle
you're a *******
fireworks display.

And you turn
everything in my head
into this
multi-coloured
turbulence and
I can't keep up with
how much I
adore you.

But the thing is
I don't know
if your view
is as good as mine.
What if you're
looking at something
a little less
beautiful.

What if I'm your
fizzle.

What if I'm as
temporary
as the flame you use
to light the
cigarettes
you find more
addictive
than my touch.

If that's the case
I'd rather
I left you
craving.

Because
if I'm your flame
you're my
forest fire
and you're burning
it all down until
the only thing left
standing is
you.

And I'll walk for
miles across this
carpet of ashes
just to feel the
softness of your skin
against mine.

And I'll cough
and I'll splutter
on toxic smoke
but you'll just
breathe it in because
you never realised anything
was even
lost.

You don't see me
crawl
you just know that
I'm here,
I'm here
I made it
I'm yours
I'll always be yours
because there's
nothing else
left.

And maybe
I can be
content with that
if only
you will see
that
you could burn down
everything
and I still
wouldn't put you
out.
I wish I was
sober enough
to kiss you
properly

— The End —