Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

Last night I cried about you.
The exact moment it happened I do not remember
but I was hit with an overwhelming
tide of emotion.
Maybe it was when my friend
wouldn't stop talking
about your beauty
and I was seeking his bare skin
to put out my cigarette.
Jealousy is ugly but my appearance
could never compare to your
lips, or the way you would
look up through your eyelashes
when you were
scared or in love.
(were they the same thing?)

Last night I cried about you.
The exact moment it happened I do not remember
but I was hit with an overwhelming
tide of emotion.
Perhaps it was when I realised
I no longer searched for him
in the poetry I wrote
and read.
Rather it is your
inexplicable beauty and intelligence
that I try to capture with
stumbled words and drunken
rants to people who don't really
care.

Last night I cried about you.
The exact moment it happened I do not remember
but I was hit with an overwhelming
tide of emotion.
It could have been when I
needed to ground myself to reality
and so I thought of you.
I dreamt of the curls in your
hair as it slightly changed
colour and I thought of
your bed and the comfort
that surrounded me when I was there.
I thought of your mother, and the
anger I feel towards your father.
I thought of your laughter
and the happiness it invokes
when  I hear it.
I thought of your tears
and the sheer anguish
that follows.

Last night I cried about you.
The exact moment it happened I do not remember
but I was hit with an overwhelming
tide of emotion.
"Missing you comes in waves and
last night I felt like I was drowning".

Soft floating embers rise
from the fires of long remembered desires
Slowly twisting and twirling  like a sensual  dance
My thoughts reach out to capture the moments
before the cradled embers die
and fade one last time.