dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.

This one goes to the real poets.
To those who decide to carry the world on their own.
To those who carry hell in their head and a graveyard of lost love stories in their heart
To the brave ones who fight darkness with darkness.
Tho those who the only answer they seek from a god is if there's eternal life for their loved ones, because they know there's no space for them in that paradise.
To those who know that suffering is the most humane feeling there is.
To those who loved and hated the wrong person.
This goes to Lorca isolated, hiding in a closet in New York.
To Unamuno craving to believe in something impossible.
To Quiroga drinking the poison of his sorrow at a hospital.
To Becquer and Espino for dying so young.
To Neruda for cheating on himself so many times.
To Machados' lost spirit.
To Marquez and his melancholic ******.
To Poe's tormented soul and his raven.
To Shakespeare and his Juliet.
To Dante and his story of woe.
This goes for the only beings who can live with a hell inside of them, and still manage to write heavenly things for those in need to read.
This one's for us.

if you fall in love, remember that you are falling
and that the fall will not last forever.
you can just as easily fall out of love,
or wake up to someone who is no longer falling.

some people trip into love
accidentally stumbling into something bigger
than they expected and while the jolt was momentarily
unpleasant, they don't mind the fall.

there are a few who will count with you
but will not jump with you, no matter what they say
because they are too afraid and leave you
to fall on your own, to hit the ground already broken.

a select few hit the ground running
flipping mid-air, somersaulting
preparing themselves for the land and launching
themselves into the air once again, unafraid. daredevils.

there are those who look before they leap
to measure, calculate, check and double check
and leap once they feel safe and ready.
they are the ones who so rarely fall, but do so with all faith.

and then there are the ones who already fell
and went and hurt themselves
and will still leap into the abyss, free and bound
knowing that they will land paralyzed and will re-learn how to love.

if you fall in love, remember that you are falling
and that the fall will not last forever.
but also remember to enjoy the fall,
because like free falling, love is dangerous

but beautiful.

Write me a book,
Call it:
"All the Ways I Was Unable to Love You."
List the reasons
why it was all my fault
Tell them about
the impossible pedestal
you placed me on
Describe the way my hands shook
trying to put your pieces
back together,
and how I no longer knew
whose hands were bleeding
I never wanted to change you,
I just wanted to be enough
to fill your emptiness
But the the void became to deafening,
and with your brokenness suffocating me,
I used my last breath to say
"Im sorry."

*-I was always sorry for your mistakes