If a poet ever tells you
Writing is easy
Writing is fun
If they say this to you
They are lying
Lying a ton
Being a poet
Isn't easy
This is hell
But writers have a place
To call home
To dwell
Where they live comfortably
Is a dark place
A dark cave
And the only ones who enter
Those who love
Those who are brave
Poets are deep creatures
Endless thoughts
Endless pain
If one lets you see inside
Don't injure
Don't be vain
Just quietly sit there
As their soul
Takes you as part
And absorb what you can
As their words
Come from the heart

Don't give up love
You'll make it through
And if you want to change
And be someone new
I'll be by your side
Hold you up when you're down
You won't be alone
I won't let you drown

Choosing to love
Is an open lesion
Something that can last
For merely a season

Other lacerations,
For a very long while
As we chose to love
Those deemed worthwhile

Certain injuries
Leave lasting damage
Moving on from pain
Takes tremendous courage

A hearts recovery
Takes patience and time
Give it room to breathe
It will be free of past grime

Let yourself love
Let yourself be free
Let yourself be
What you need to be

I love the taste of my coffee
But I'm really terrible at remembering
To drink it before it stars chilling.
I write
I draw
I sing
I am art.
But my coffee grows old.
So I've become okay with the taste
Of lukewarm coffee.
It's become a familiar kiss
Across my mouth and these lips.

When a girl thinks of you
In the most intimate setting
She embraces the thought
Of her wedding night
Letting herself go to you
Once you've given her your heart

When a boy thinks of you
In the most intimate setting
He thinks of the deed
In a car park, on a couch
Wherever is most convenient
Letting himself go to you
Once you've given him your body

When I think of you
In the most intimate setting
I think of the love and commitment
That I have given to you
Letting myself go to you
My whole heart and body

When you think of me
In the most intimate setting
Do you think of how you love me
Or of how much you care
While letting yourself go to me
Your heart, or just your body?

A kiss from red wine
On my red lips
Is a little sweeter
When my heart
Is falling to bits

"You must love haikus
Because you are a poet"
I do not like them