it doesn't have to be
perfect.

you're cutting demos
not diamonds.

i'm creating paragraphs
not parachutes.

she's drawing pictures
not pistols.

he's constructing bookshelves
not buildings.

we're making differences
not disasters.

we don't have to be
perfect
to be
poets.

i.* Build me a concrete house and I will not put a single clock on its walls because timing was never on our side anyway.

ii. This boy called Cupid is so irresponsible; he needs to stop drinking before he goes to work.

iii. One time we were so close to each other we almost touched hands
but we are sadly the perfect metaphors for continents that are constantly drifting further away from each other.

iv. I'm all ears. I don't understand why you never said anything to me before.

v. I only speak two languages but I'm cussing you in seven. Also, I miss your face but ******* and your stupid hair. You look like a  broccoli.

write her a poem
on the back of a receipt from
two weeks ago

turn it into an airplane
and with all your might
fly it towards her direction

watch it land slowly
watch her pick it up
and laugh

jesus christ
she looks so pretty
when her eyes smile like that
but *******
you weren't prepared for
the crash

why didn't anyone teach you
how to wear a parachute