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  Oct 2016 Jessica Ferrell
Rapunzoll
my mother always said
"don't fall in love with a poet"
they pretend to love you
but what they really love
is writing about loving you
you are mere words to them
feelings cheapened by a page,
dusty grey typewriters,
and many unfinished drafts
of lovers both old and new,
you are the question mark,
but not the answer,
they are searching for ?
person unidentified: mystery
the page wanderer,
each poem a missing
person poster to cover their
bedroom walls.
they cannot love something
that is in their head
poets are the loneliest of
all people, my mother said.
they write to immortalize
what has long passed.
to live within their words,
but not reality,
lost souls writing suicide notes
and proclaiming it art.
© copyright

NOTE: i've noticed people sharing this to other sites without having spoken to me about it beforehand, I do not give permission for this and all poems are copyright, keep this in mind.

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my mother never actually said this to me, but i figure i'll probably end up saying it one day if i have children.

it's pessimistic yes, but i know there are exceptions. please don't take to heart. it's more a criticism of myself than all poets. :)
Jessica Ferrell Aug 2016
Come over.
Have a glass of peach apple wine
and tell me what it's like to live with her and think of me.

When she ***** you and your hands are in her fake red hair,
tell me how you close your eyes and think of running your hands through mine.
How my honest green eyes flash in your mind
and make you hope.

Read me the poem you wrote me
while she sat on the couch next to you
playing with the cats you named together.

Tell me how I've given you confidence,
how my soul reflects in your writing
because I showed it to you.
Come over and be mine for the afternoon.

— The End —