If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

I've been laying here,
And you, way over there.

I've been reminiscing you,
Still feeling the same old blues.

I've been loving you,
And I know a thing or two.

That baby, you're not alone,
And that I'll make you know.

That nothing's going to bring us down,
And nothing's going to turn dead brown.

Cause please darling, take a quoted look!
Like the light blue lines of a college book.

We'll always be together,
Pure like a white bird's fallen feather.

And I want you to know,
No matter how much you let go.

No matter how distant,
I'll still be persistent.

Because...
*Baby, you're not alone
'Cause you're here with me
And nothing's ever gonna bring us down
'Cause nothing can keep me from lovin' you
And you know it's true
It don't matter what'll come to be
Our love is all we need to make it through...

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f

A heart is such a funny thing, it moves to its own beat,
A thrumming, drumming, pulsing thing, that's pumping blood and heat,
And though it is a part of me, I still feel disconnected,
The heart that lives inside my chest knows it has been rejected,
And so it sits, yearning for you, and here I am beside it,
My thoughts a blur, my heart a-stir, for love that's unrequited.

I have these thoughts in my mind
That tell me to just go
Leave it all behind
Maybe you'll find happiness elsewhere
Because it's obvious that I can't be happy here
No matter how hard I try
No matter how much I want to be,
The stress and anxiety
Are just too overwhelming.
Maybe if i lived a life on the go
Never staying in one place too long,
Maybe I'll find myself
Find inner peace,
Find happiness.

When I fall asleep my eyes meet yours.

everyone writes poetry about problems nowadays
and i get that, because I do it too
I understand how getting it all out in a poem relieves
but, i don't know, i just wish i could see someone
write about happiness. I kinda miss happiness.
Its kind of slowly slipping away,
like dewfall disappearing in the day,
gradually.
Please everyone who is upset, take a moment
Stop. Breathe. You have more than you know.
People love you. People care.
Yes get out your feelings when you need too
But every once and a while...
Can we just smile through the darkness?

i want to write you poems until my hand falls off
i often wonder if you read them would you come back?
would each sentence, word, letter, that your eyes glaze over
light up - would you remember how it felt?

i told you so many times that nobody can ever love you as much as i do
and if you ever find someone who claims they do
bring them to me
lay them down before me
knowing that they will never get back up

there is a sunset in four hours
yours is the only hand i will ever hold
walking in it's direction
so call me, text me, bump into me
scream at me, grab me, slap me, burn me
just come back to me