je peux vous aime mais vous êtes tout simplement pas la peine ma chérie

Types of girls : *poetry-inked skin, hollow and fragile,dark circles, lack of eye contact, smeared mascara, not enough and too much

The way your hand slipped into mine
I'd trace around your wrist
outlining your veins
and it felt like i could stay there forever doing that
but it always came time for me to leave
too early at that
The way you tasted the first time we kissed was salt
and perhaps it was from us swimming a few minutes before
but i can't forget it every time i go in the ocean
but now you're gone and i cant help but remember the simple things
maybe they're stupid but I'd do anything to have it back

Streams flow from my eyes
The road of loneliness twist and turns down my spine
Wrists like oak trees with carved memories of loved ones souls
Fingertips as delicate and cold as an alabaster snowflake
Wind chills my body; it feels the way it felt when I lost my soul
Now I lie empty and cold wondering the amount of time it would take to build a new one
…A heart that is… it fell and broke like the glass that it is
When you tore my soul from underneath me
Like a terrible way to impress a love interest at a dinner
I’m scarred
The memory of the day you told me that your are not mentally physically and emotionally devoted to my whole being
As I am to you

A whirlpool of emotions and thoughts
Swirls in my mind
And I can barely swim on
When confusion reigns
And bewilderness holds
The crown
That is when I pull out my sword.
I must cling
and in no condition leave
That one emotion
which will keep me going on.
which will motivate me
inspire me
and keep me right here
And make me strong.

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f