All these books to read

and all these songs to sing

but all I can think about

are these empty pages

and how my hand would look better

with a glass of whiskey.

Monsters dream
that unicorns get together with vampires,
while they dance and drink
under the moonlight.
.
The Gods see them and envy them
The Undergods see them and they laugh.
.
While they dance and drink
they die
under the moonlight, during the night,
they have fun at the speed of light.
.
Once they start
they don't stop.
Once they get tired
they drink blood.
.
Angels dream
that Heaven and Earth are one,
united under one flag.
They dream dreams,
they dream peace.
.
God hears them and hopes
The Devil hears them and he laughs
his *** off.
.
A father dreams as he works,
he dreams of better days.
.
A mother dreams as she cooks,
she dreams of silent nights.
.
A grandfather dreams as he smokes,
he dreams of a peaceful life.
.
A child dreams as he sleeps,
he's filled with hope as he plays.
.
A child's laughter is a dream,
a child sleeping is like peace.
.
A child's kiss is all that we need
to believe that those monsters
that dream of unicorns and vampires
are real.

dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.

I hope you never reach
The day
Where you are lost for words
Because they're tangled up in
Agony.

I hope you never reach
The point
Where your innocence of
The world is
Robbed.

I hope you choose
Your friends and
Lovers wisely
So that you never have to
Discover what it feels like
To see those who you believed
Would take a bullet for you
Dance behind the
Trigger.

Ask him to write you poems
           and books,
For I have run out of words.