You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken

Do not worry,
This experiment won't take long,
We will come back to where we belong,
To the high we call sanity
He said it was the fruit of knowledge that gave us mortality
Thin man, grey beard
It was the truth that he feared
It was written in his eyes, Bold and CLEAR
He said god gave us love just to teach us what pain is
But,do you know what hate is?
She looked into my eyes and looked through
Like she knows me but, does not want to
And its true
She's closed the window from where I once flew
Or that's what she has made me believe,
He said,"you are what you believe you are"
But do you know how far is too far?
I can see the stars, the sun and the moon,
The hills decked with clouds,
The mountains draped in white,
He said gods don't play dice
So I asked them to apologize for the poems that my pen cries
Let us mourn for the love that once was,
The music that this world once played for us
We were like the two ends of the same rainbow
Miles away but one
'we', once meant she and I
Now the word hurts
I can see us in the clouds drifting apart,
The rivers lost in the oceans,
The mountains flushed down,
And in the tears that could once melt hearts
She wants a world where I don't exist
So I pushed a knife inside her heart to set her free
And he laughed

What is important to you in this life?
Who would you go to the ends of the earth for,
Never say no to,
Always be willing to help them in any struggle?
Are they able to be helped?
Are they willing to accept your advice and
Assistance, or are they stubborn and prideful?
Do they simply not want your help because
Someone else has a better offer?
If they are like this, why do you still persist
In your attempts to understand them,
Encourage them, and lead them to where
You think is best for them?
If this is your case, I believe you have the answer
To the most challenging question of all;
What is love?

you stole my light
when i told you to stop
and you ignored my red light
and kept going
like my body was undiscovered land
and you were a colonizer.
perhaps my asking you to stop
turned you on
made you hungry.
you looked at me with your hungry eyes
like i was fresh meat
for you to take and have for yourself
ignoring my stop signs
cries
screams
because i am nothing more
than an object to you
made for your manipulation and pleasures.

Sometimes I look at the stars and see my future.

i. the curly, green-haired
leo with the cry-baby tattoo
on her left calf; fish net stockings and
loud guitar playing and
menthol cigarettes. driving through
the park at 9 pm, ***** shots,
the white house with the a-frame roof,
hugs that made your heart feel as warm
as she did

crying as i left my room again to be
intertwined with a girl who did not love me, but i wanted to;
months pass, lonely car rides with
one-sided conversations and
seven years gone,
quiet disconnection
that made you feel as cold
as i did

ii. brown eyes, brown skin,
round glasses and chicago streetlights.
holding each other close on the subway
lakehouse parties in the beginning of spring and
pisces season and tarot readings and
soft kisses on the train.
holding hands at the aquarium,
sweet poetry and calm and
a sense of oneness that made you feel
important

hurt for the third time
a panic, a loss
i held their heart in my hands and
let it fall
harsh
unimportant
i still carry the guilt on my fingertips

iii. short hair. freckled cheeks, i
fell in love with the way the skin
crinkled around her eyes when she smiled.
an apartment, a home built
around our lips touching
wrapped in blankets on the couch,
dense smoke and her hand on my leg while she
drove. chinese food and
waking up against her chest and
laughing so hard
my ribs hurt

crashing. her anger withering away my
heartstrings; pain and
crying alone in the bathtub
moving away
drunk tears on the interstate
punching my thighs
in place of the way her
words made
me hurt