sunrise promised to wait for us
the dawn did not rise over the village,
in the eyes of the muses
the dawn promised to wait for us

muses are not like poets,
not even like the sun
that
burns its rays on the cascades moved by lazy waves,

- the dawn did not rise over the village,
the down promised to wait for us,
swore to the muses,
swore that the water would comb at the rising sun
  smoothly
it will burn in his eyes like the star of the night while planting a garden
where
the muses smolder all year round like flowers, or
like coal extracted from the hearts of poets,

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

The first time
you said you loved
me, it was as if
I had been pulled aboard
a life raft after being
lost at sea. But
I see now that this
raft is littered with
holes and
we are sinking, but
you are convinced
that your love is a
teacup to scoop out
the water pooling around
my ankles and you will save
us, but the teacup has a crack
down one side and
do you see where I
am going with this?
A tablespoon of water
will never put out
a forest fire; I am burning
through acres.

I read a quote somewhere that said,
"I don't know how many times I have survived myself, without telling anyone else."

And I felt those words shoot through every nerve in my body. I felt them so deeply.

And I wonder how many of us feel the same way.

How many nights we fought off the suicidal thoughts, the urge to cut, the urge to purge, the urge to run or to hide out, alone, too afraid to worry or bother our friends and family.

How many days and nights have we all suffered in our own darkness alone?

People like us fight a battle no one can ever fathom because it's a battle no one can see. And we don't let them.

I've fought myself and survived myself alone so many nights.

There were nights I use to lose my own battle. But some how still came out alive.

I guess that's how we keep going. Because every time we give up we come out stronger.

You fight yourself and beat yourself up for so long that eventually you become a master of surviving a war.

We're warriors.

"I don't know how many times I've survived myself, without telling anyone else."

Tonight, I'm telling all of you.

I survived myself.

And if you're still here and you're reading this, you survived yourself too.

It's not easy but you did it.

And I'm so proud of you all.

When I killed myself to be someone who was wanted by everyone, I never imagined that I would end up right here

Next to you, asleep, at 1 o clock in the morning,
My arm around your back, feeling every crease that your body tries so desperately to hide away from the surface,
You, fast asleep, how beautiful your eyelids look when they’re closing the world off for you while you come to grips with living this way,
And yeah, It’s a beautiful feeling

I never knew I could love like this

Like you, you’re such a beautiful feeling,
Every word that comes out from your lips and your tongue, it all flows so naturally,
I was never convinced that naturally love should feel like this,
I taught myself to love hard and fast and never slow down, like everyone else that came before you,
But don’t get me wrong, your sunlight eyes and flower tipped nose look very nice in my garden, and I think I’ll keep you around for some seasons,
Which is to say, I hope this feeling never dies

When I told you that I wrote poetry, I hesitated to do so because I knew that no poem I could write could possibly do anything about you justice,
I mean just look at you,
Everything about you is a poem written from all of my favorite poets

I never knew I could love like this

My heart, a puzzle, missing all of the pieces,
I’m starting to think that maybe none of them were missing, they just needed someone with patience, someone who wants to look at the bigger picture,
I found you,
Just like a missing puzzle piece,
I’m not saying I need you to fix me,
You’re just doing a really wonderful job at showing me how beautiful my clouds look while they’re next to the blue pieces

Your kisses, small and sweat like Reese’s Pieces, this wouldn’t be a love poem if some of things I said weren’t cheesy,
I guess to top it all off I could say that living and loving with you is easy peazy, your flavor makes my heart clean and washes away the bitter, no lemon squeazy

I never knew I could love like this

Bad puns and “that was a good one”’s aside

We got a good thing going

Let’s keep it that way, dream girl

stuck in a paradox
a paradox of lies
as the rivers stream
through the shallow creek
trying not to think
while dwelling on my thoughts
for a second
purposely anxious
sadness stands by my side
the shadows remain
dim and hallow
it is pain that I have to swallow

And I told him, Ivan, don’t shout.
And he did, and he couldn’t hear me;
he was too busy, leaning over the edge,
teetering on the point of immortality—
on the edge, on the edge, on the edge.
He’s still there.

Then, is it okay to cry enough?
Isn’t it okay to keep helping him?
Or am I too stupid to believe—
“Ivan, please stay. Please don’t go”—
that he would stay, even after I’m gone?

Because, I still cried, even when I left him first.
Because I didn’t want to stay to see him leave me,
and is love okay this way?
Is this what love for me supposed to be?
Am I really that naive to have believed its lies?

I left. But I can’t help but feel that I’m the one who lied.