They hunted you down on that heavy cold night
They hunted you down on horseback like cowards.
They hunted you down. You were only a boy.
They hunted you down in the forest.
Red was the blood on your face in that nightmare,
Red as the waves in your beautiful hair,
Red was the fire, red was the moon.
Blood red was your shrieking that pierced through the air.
What savage world was this where we lived?
Our beautiful, primitive autumn land
When they bound all mercy and love to the water
Engulfed in the flames of the evil of man.
An inferno broke out from your tender red heart,
As they cruelly sliced open your body in whole
A terror that would forever linger in the trees
The fire of that night forever in your soul.

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.

I remember now,
What happened in our Autumn.
They took you away...

Unique-featured sugar pixie
Her delicate porcelain soul
Craved a dangerous inferno
to warm her in the winter cold

When we used to become One.

Her frame, oh so divinely lithe!
Her name, soft & sweet, like a gentle creek
Embrace her with my eternal fire
Buried beneath me, our bodies did feast

When we used to become One.

The Chains of Flaming Hellfire
emerge from every void
And sink their hooks deep into you
until we're all destroyed

And one day -
Out of nowhere, fate
decreed the blaze too great
the fire shattered the little glass box
In which she had kept it contained
And it spread
from her hips to her heart to her head
a resurrected sense of dread
a pain she thought was dead.

The fire engulfed her whole
it cracked her porcelain soul
and burned the forest of her mind
right down to the soil

And the damage had been done.
But she still remembers once
upon a time, we became one
In the glory of the sun.
in the darkness of the night.
In the shadows of the daylight.
In the glow of the warm sunrise.
We became One.

I knew when I walked away in shame
That your world was far away from mine.
Ever so gently she uttered the name
That belonged to my prince divine.
When suddenly I was granted the delight
of being your heart's dark beauty
my body was yours through the long lonely night,
And contented, I gave my wings to thee.
You enjoyed the magic of this broken fairy,
though most of it had been taken.
But yet in all the light, we hadn't been wary
Of the sickness that would soon awaken.
It's precious to me, this golden pixie dust
That I keep locked beneath my wings.
They've ravaged my body, dismembered my trust
To silence the song that it sings.
Who was I to ask you to protect my little box
When you have a treasure trove fit for a king?
Instead I'll stare as you sail away from the docks,
and listen to your ship's bell ring.
I heard its shriek from far away
when I plummeted from the sky
T'is the song it sings to bring you home today
The day I can no longer fly.
Content I will be when I think of my prince
indulging in all his treasures
I must remain here and guard my frail box
pathetic to her trove beyond measure.
it was only but a fantasy, a foolish girl's naiveté,
to think I could share your world.
To think I could deprive you of what you most crave from me
But expect you to guard this pearl.
Thus is the life of a pixie like me,
When I live by self protection.
There will be no knight to guard the gold that they seek,
Only I can create my perfection.

Stay in the shower as long as you want.
Turn the water as hot as you need.
Rub down your body, each crevasse and limb.
keep on scrubbing until you bleed.
You won't get the dirt off.
It's inside.
Strip off your skin and claw out your flesh.
Expose your hidden self underneath.
Run the water over 'till your muscles are sore.
Keep on scrubbing. You won't find relief.
You still won't get the dirt off.
It crawls in your blood.
Pull out your veins. Drain out the tubes.
Let it run dry so you get it all out.
Fill up the tub. You're sure to win now.
But you still haven't realized what this is about.
You won't get the dirt out.
It's inside your head.
Cut open your skull. Pull out your brain.
Amputate every ill-found regret.
Pick open each lobe. Each neuron until
You're sure that it's over, you'll finally forget.
But you'll never get the dirt out.
You're already dead.