I can write you into poetry,
breathe your name in my sleep.
But my words are hollow,
and my eyelids are so heavy.
See,
I didn't want to write another poem
about you
or love at all,
for that matter.
But its so hard
to not feel like
a character in a *******
John Green novel
when you talk about her
And I can't help thinking
I can love you so much better.
I don't think she notices
your eyes when you laugh,
or your one crooked tooth,
or that that's not even your natural hair color,
and I don't think she notices
when you're upset
or if she does
she doesn't care
And it pains me to think that
you love so fully
and completely,
like Pudge,
but I am not your Alaska.
And I can't help thinking
you deserve someone
who will love you like Hazel Grace,
who will see constellations in your face
and won't laugh when you cry.
But now matter how many cliches
I write down
or if I'm sleeping beauty,
I can't help feeling
that somewhere along the line
I got stage fright and couldn't play
Augustus right,
like I'm the only character
who forgot the words,
and that's stupid because
I'm supposed to be a main character,
but somehow I got mixed up
with the background.
So I don't know if this is my fault
for mistaking myself
for someone more important,
or if I'd even make a difference
if I was

John Green made me sad in the best possible way...

So thanks

Augustus,who taught me to love people no matter what.

Hazel,for showing me we are all beautiful.

Alaska,for saying its okay to be a bit mischievous.

Pudge,for proving that you don't have to have millions of friends to feel loved.

The Coronel, for teaching me to believe in myself,no matter where I had come from.

Colin,for my eureka moment.

Both Will Graysons,for showing me is okay to not know exactly who you are.

And every character in Paper Towns,who just made me really happy.

But lastly and most importantly I'd like to thank John Green,because you made my life a better place with your books, and for that I'm forever greatful

Moon is not beautiful
She doth not shine golden
She drops weakened, white light
on creatures craving sleep

She sits there and stares
At a frightened little world
with her cold, chilling glow
and a hostility deep

It's ingrained in her soul
to make the nimbus look fearsome
ghastly and pale
like a place to hide demons

She debases belief
We forget our star-wish
and thick, we go fishing
at nighttime

And then, Moon releases
a loneliness, cold
and we can't elude
we're stuck in the hole of
This brooding solitude mood
and its tole.

There's no escaping anytime soon
As we start to fear
the burning sun
And I suppose, this is my loathing of Moon.

Moon is contagious.
She offers the aid of her presence, unfailing
When we're washed down like willows, weakened
and wailing

And we can sail under her
Just as the dime
It's a lie that the night's
only clock-start for crime

When she's out from the hiding place
to be bright as Moon can
There's not a direction
No footpath
No overworked plan

And when I remember:
Beauty needs not a rival
I suppose I'll be loving Moon, soon again.

Inhale
you enter my body
tingling oxygen

traveling through my veins
you give me warmth
keeping me alive

I hold you in
hoping there is something left
an endless supply

your departure boils my blood
your beat-less body
my heart pumps for two
you leave me cold