So here I lay
Another bed
In another room
With another man
On another night.
And nothing feels
The same because
None of the men
Are you.

I'm not beautiful
Or well-bred
I watched my brothers die
I thought I was dead

Saved by a stranger
Who showed that they cared
Wrapped in a blanket
Hungry and scared

Now I just wait
Unsure of my fate
Please come and get me
Its never too late

To date a poet
You gotta know a few things
We're sensitive and
Good with our words
Like to cuddle and
Watch movies and read

If you understand
All these things
You'll be set
Before you know it
You're dating a poet

stumbling home
in the evening
with my breath
smelling of cheap beer
and cigarettes;
people worry,
I tell them not to;
I do this for me,
not for attention
or sympathy,
I do this to feel
more alive,
because I feel so
dead inside
and my thoughts
are racing;
drinking shuts them up
for a couple of hours
and I feel better;
I feel sick,
but I also feel
great,
like I can do anything;
like nothing can hurt me;
is this what death
tastes like?
god,
I hope so

I am that faint dream you had
The spark of the unlit match
Long ago on a summer afternoon
The scent that leaves too soon

Like the faded dancing flame
Of the early morning light
In frevour and fury untamed
I die with the departing night

The flash flood in the spring river
Needing only a moment to deliver
Lasting pain and unending harm
I leave quick but take the calm

I am the thunder that struck
And burned everything to dust
In an instant I come and go
You know I am fatal though

I dream of going far away.
Plunging into the grandeur
And the vastness
Of the world.
I am ready to leave this place;
I am ready, I say,
To be away.

I will write and draw,
And take drugs with strangers.
I will sleep on the beach,
Bathe in rivers,
And plunge into nature,
Away from four walls,
From screens and cars,
And toward greenery and stars;
Splendid laughter and epiphanies
Spilling from the ether,
Behind trees and over mountains,
In the silent water of calm lakes,
And in the crimson sky
Of some northwestern twilight.

I will wander abandoned roads
And drink coffee in midnight diners
Thousands of miles from home,
For the road beckons,
And the moon never waits.

The wanderlust of youth
Is nothing to waste.