When a poet doesn't know the answer
To the simplest questions
It's because their mind is so filled
With abnormal poetic revisions

When a poet doesn't know
The way to say how they feel
It's because they need to write it out
So they know the feelings are real

When a poet doesn't know
How to say I love you
It's because they haven't found a rhyme
That brings out the best in you

When a poet doesn't know what to say
Or simply how to make you feel better
They just type up some lines and rhymes
Like... "We'll get through this together"

When a poets doesn't know the answer
Or how to say what they feel
Or that they're in love with you
Or how to make you feel better still

And they don't have the words to write it all down....
That poet's world is sure to crumble to the ground

real; the unscabbed scars on my knuckles and arms remind
me of rough trees and the grimy surface of soil stomped
on, you compare them to wildflowers but i know that this is
only because you are the type of person to enter a restaurant
with a sign that reads caution and order something anyway,
simply because you are too nice and hate to think of businesses
shutting down and of people failing, maybe this is why
you love me, i still have not figured it out yet

real; walking into school makes me feel like a deflated balloon
and everyone that says hello to me is blowing me up
again with methane i am slowly becoming too big to be tied
down with a ribbon called responsibility and fear,
the anxiety that enters my mind when i am forced to stand in
front of strangers with judgemental eyes and fake smiles
becomes mind numbingly painful and it makes me question
whether or not i am still alive. i still have not figured out
why i am yet.

real; your smile lights up the lights on the lamposts by the
train station where we met it transforms phantoms into people
paper planes into reality and nightmares into dreams
your touch leaves nothing but good intentions and blissful hope
and it leaves my cold unbeating heart yearning for warmth. i
still have not figured out if i like it or not.

not real; you love me. you kiss my wrist because you care
about me not what i went through. you love talking to me, you
wonder about how stars could ever die because you
think i am a walking sun. you keep your promises and tell me that
you care every night. i'm a good person. i have aspirations.
those pills on my bedside are not mine. the mirror is shaking.
i never meant to hurt myself. i'm sorry for all the things i've done.
i have potential to be better. i am beautiful.
not real not real not ******* real

(h.l.)

i never got a chance to touch your body the way she did but i did touch you the way she couldn't

j.f