my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.

i am
nebula
an explosion of stardust
i am
a supernova
fear me
i am
universes
galaxies
asteroids
i am
a little cosmos
within me
if you don't dare
reach
for the stars
stay away from me
i'll swallow you
like a black hole
i am made out of
dark matter
don't you even dare
come closer
if you're not ready
to explore
uncharted
territory

why are we so obsessed
with fixing ourselves
or finding someone else who will

we're not puzzles
or riddles
or broken

we're not really lost
we're wandering
we are travellers

we're neither things
we are human
we are feelings

we don't need someone to
complete us
or fix us

stop trying to convince yourself
that you need for someone
to replace that loneliness

darling,
light a fire
and let yourself feel the warmth

"I wish you well."
                                                          ­                    



                                         ­                                     (but not too well without me)

you're not your hair:
you can cut it dye it curl it straighten it shave it bend it twist it;

you're not your face:
you can hide it under layers of make-up you can put on lenses you can change your face in a matter of minutes;

you're not your skin:
you can cut it draw on it bite it tear it;

you're not your body:
you can lose weight gain weight;

you're not your clothes:
strip them off;

never reduce
yourself
to
a colour
a number
an adjective
a noun

never reduce
yourself
to a simple
word

you are
the thoughts you have at 3 a.m.
the lame jokes you tell your friends
the art you create
the books you read
the pages you have dog-eared
the quotes you have highlighted
the coffee you never finished drinking
the movie you watch after midnight, wrapped in a blanket
the chocolate cake you ate that night with that girl
the slice of pizza you could've eaten but you gave to your best friend
the kiss that still burns on your lips
the cigarettes that sting in your lungs long after you smoked them
the dreams you dream
the worlds you build in your mind
the song that's stuck in your head
the moments you're in the shower
the iloveyous
the ikindaguessilikeyous
the icareforyous
the seeyoulaters
the words you say
the smiles you smile
the laughs you laugh
the loves you love
the hates you hate

you are
an entire universe:
you're stars
and planets
and galaxies
and asteroids
and comets

you are a cosmos
trapped in
a shell.

you are
a gazillion worlds
locked in
a human cage.

never think
of yourself
as of
anything
less.

But at the end of the day, I don't want the one who will spin my head round, who will make my blood boil, whose kisses will feel like I'm on fire, whose touch will make the universe explode. No. I want the one who will be okay seeing me throw up after we've had a bit too much to drink; who will hold my hair and call me a loser the next morning, but will, nonetheless, leave two Tylenol on the nightstand. I want the one who won't mind taking care of me when I'm sick, who won't mind my coughing fits and my runny nose. I want the one who will be perfectly fine with running home in the rain after we've missed our bus; who will be content with wearing ugly sweaters in front of the telly, drinking hot chocolate and watching silly movies. I want the one who will cook for me and who won't mind my cooking. I want the one who will be perfectly comfortable with us walking around in our underwear and who will drink as much coffee as I do. I want the one who will lie in bed with our laptop while I'm reading a book and won't mind the silence. I want the one who will buy my parents silly Christmas gifts and someone whose mother I'll be friends with. I want the one who will laugh at my jokes when they're funny and will call me an idiot when they ****. I want the one who will beat me at computer games and who won't mind that I sing even though I **** at singing. I want the one who will open up to me and let me help them; who will listen to my worries but who will respect my personal space. I want the one who will call me silly nicknames and who will tell me they love me everyday. I want the one who will take pictures with me and will pin them on the fridge. All I crave is comfort and stability. Don't romanticise love: the only thing you'll ever need is a best friend who wants to sleep with you and spend the rest of your life with you.