You’ve changed, in a way that I know you don’t even recognize yourself. I know, because when you’re alone you frown at the floor and your face is absolutely heartbreaking but then she comes around and you put the face away and smile again. I could be delirious, you could just be happy, but are we really ever happy with something we cheated to get? Maybe you don’t see it that way, and you’re the happiest person in the world, but if you really are, then explain that face to me? I’ve only seen that face after your cousin died, when you were questioning God and why everyone was leaving your life. You look lost, but then again you look like a stranger, and I know of nothing in your life anymore, except these gut feelings that something isn’t okay. Is your mom okay? Is your grandmother healthy? Have you thought about suicide? Is she helping you pass with good grades? Is she funny? You deserve endless laughter. You’re changing, but maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s just because I’m on the outside. Somewhere I’m not used to being, and somewhere I wish I wasn’t. Maybe it’s because you said we’d still be friends and you still feel something, and maybe it’s because hope is dangerous. Because after I’d hoped that we’d be better and that you had the repressed feelings that I was experiencing out loud, and then you stopped talking to me, I lost everything. Now, don’t go thinking you are my everything, because you aren’t, but the concept was never something I hated. Back to why I’m writing this, does she have a soul like I do? Because I’d hate to know you’re being handled by someone who doesn’t have a deep soul, and sees the universe when they close their eyes. Are your car rides the same? Do you try to do the same things with them? Is she still pregnant? Isn’t she the good girl? Isn’t that why she’s easier to love and bring home to mom? Honestly, how is your mom? Sigh, I guess it’s okay. Just be careful…you can only change yourself so much before it becomes ******.

-g.e.s.

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.

Devouring Time blunt thou the lion’s paws,
And make the earth devour her own sweet brood,
Pluck the keen teeth from the fierce tiger’s jaws,
And burn the long-lived phoenix, in her blood,
Make glad and sorry seasons as thou fleet’st,
And do whate’er thou wilt swift-footed Time
To the wide world and all her fading sweets.
But I forbid thee one most heinous crime:
O carve not with thy hours my love’s fair brow,
Nor draw no lines there with thine antique pen,
Him in thy course untainted do allow,
For beauty’s pattern to succeeding men.
    Yet do thy worst old Time: despite thy wrong,
    My love shall in my verse ever live young.

'but suddenly, you're 30 and blasting the songs that you wanted to die to when you were 15.'

break me
shatter me
then ruin me

take everything from me
make me feel rage
and let me forget what happiness was
then strip my innocence away

now, let hell break loose.

Time is but a concept that we all fall for.
Time is just a rendition of
     a song the stars play by
Yet here we all are
     thinking we've got all the
            time in the world
While it slips by faster than
     you can say
            goodbye.

you don't tempt me
you entrance me
and I give in

the way you kiss
repells my tensions
it's the perfect combination
soft, wet, vicious, caring
i crave you more and more

the way your skin grazes me
igniting every nerve ending of mine
sends me to somewhere like heaven
where you are my celestial wonderland

the way your eyes lock with mine
gentle, unguarded gazes
veiled with stories of mysteries and untold futures
i will read them with you someday

the way i feel with you
wanted, desired, loved
helpless, foolish, lost
but always at peace

i want to be near you
even if I'm not beside you
i don't want to forget a thing about you

nightmares do come true.
realising just how lonely i really am.
i never thought I'd ever feel this way again, the only thing that appeals to me is my art and it seems as if momentarily I have lost it, to the girl that thought she broke my heart, truth be told? your actions do not come close to what I'm feeling, i said this before but now i believe it