The young cling to their mothers
like we cling to each other
set me on fire
I want to see you bitter,
you don't want to lose her

you have a way that craves things
but never fights
and anything that comes close enough
you close your eyes and run from
before the next one

if I had just let go
it would have been easier
but I want to know
what makes you break into pieces
maybe you lost the lottery this time

and love is so inventive
giving me feelings I didn't know existed
casual, she says
as she locks her fingers around his wrist
maybe it's the love you missed

and out of her eyes comes a fog
that you will have to drive through
to get to her
so you go, headlights on,
to search forever

I won't stay anywhere for anyone.
call me a ghost, call me insane
call me unhinged, call me by my name
I need no savior, I am my own
They tell me to come back home.
It's who have you met, not what you have done.
I put the sun in my skies.
Sometimes it rains, but it always dries.
I can hear the battle cries
The good in me cannot be reached
It has always been my retreat
So who are you to come to me and preach?
I know some who would do anything for love.
I would do anything for myself
and that's enough.

farewell to the places
we've all been
and all the faces
we've seen
a hundred times
but never stopped to memorize
I know
it can't be captured
like you saw it
and that's why
it was all gone
in the moment
but I know
every little crack in your palm
even if it's for the best
I still don't get
why you had to stay behind
while I moved on.

the blue jays built a nest
in your backyard
but you have yet
to make a name for yourself
anywhere we've gone
they say never change,
well, you and I are bound to
it's just in our nature
and if this world doesn't
follow along, I have to tell you,
I don't want to stay here.

we went to your attic,
hiding in a corner
without flashlights
pretended we were magic.
and you were smoking something
I didn't recognize
why set your lungs on fire?
why use a cigarette lighter
when you can torch the world instead?
but then I just remember
how we ended up here
and try to keep my head.

they said never leave
but I guess we're going to have to
you know we don't have a choice
we have to leave the way we are
that's how they'll remember us
I know it's home but I only liked it
because you were always there,
and if you're leaving, darling,
all I've got to say is
I don't want to stay here.

The sun retreats too early, too quickly these days
and the ink wells are running dry.
It's a drought of love and easiness,
we are kept safe and sound
only under our own skin
I collapsed one night in the kitchen.

I try to light a fire but it just turns to ashes
and we have no other way to stay warm
sometimes I turn the music up so I don't have to hear you come home
and I won't shake when I hear your voice.
Take the Christmas tree down.

I think you see me as a decoration
like the lights or a manger scene
beautiful, but I must be silent all the time
the song you turn the radio down on
you see nothing within.

I wear gloves even inside now
I'm careful around you,
like with the star on the top of the tree.
I'm afraid even the gentlest touch
will break you into pieces.

I almost called the cops this morning
to tell them there was a stranger in my house.
They would have called me crazy, and so would have you.
You live here; there are pictures of you on the walls.
But your heart moved on long ago.

I had no idea what I was looking for, I just knew that you were it.

clear in the light from the sides of your shadows,
throwing your hammer down.
get me closer and closer
til I'm just where you want me
I'm pieces of photographs and reflections of portraits
capturing your movements on the pavement
I don't know what makes you think I'm in the dark
I'm no more mechanical than you are
I'm struck by the way our two separate ways meet
just hit me with the truth already
(I won't give you mine yet)

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.