If I had know that I was going to write a poem about you I wouldn't have
If I known I would fall in love with you
I would have never met you
And if I had known how much I would hurt
I would have already been dead

But that's not the way that it works, is it?
We are to find love
Find pain
And everything that goes with
But I never wanted this I never wanted to feel
I hated it so much
You hated me so much
But I can't do much about it now,
Can I?

If I had know
I would never had felt this way
I would have never had my heart leap
And jump out of my chest
If I had known
So much would be different
And you would be long gone

I used to write
My secrets in the sand,
Knowing they would never stay
Long enough to be told.

I used to just swim,
pulled my hair up and never
Really tasted the salt that foamed
After the crash.

I've ran in the sand,
Sure, but never have I
Ever let it smooth my
Skin into what it could be.

Before today, I've never
Let the current take me
Under and feel what it's like
To always come back to something.

do poems only flourish when they are rooted in the soil of emotions?
shall i water them with my tears?
do they sprout from the anger that weeds itself through my soul?
are they the seeds that i planted in my garden and only grow when the sky flashes and thunder sounds?
will you pluck them and use them as decoration for your dinner table?
do they bloom in the moonlight?
are they the trees that sway in the wind yet stand tall in the face of a hurricane?
are poems only full of emotion when we are?
or can i truly write whatever i want?