"We used to did that, didn't we?"
he said and i remembered it all,
and it hits me hard in the head,
it stabs my heart till it hurts

my mind won't stop playing
the memories we've built
my heart won't stop screaming
your name, over and over again.

those seven words that you've said,
brought back all of the memories,
every song you've sang to me
and all stories we've shared.

it's all coming back to me now,
the loneliness, the pain
that i've felt to
all the things we did

But I know, no matter what happens,
you are never going back to me,
it's all in the past now and we're both
happy with our own lives now,

I'm with someone now
and you already found your true love
but i promise i won't forget you
and our memories would not be forgotten

It will stay on my heart
because you'll always
be a part of me
you're my first love.

and i will love you, forever.

"I wish you well."
                                                          ­                    



                                         ­                                     (but not too well without me)

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

Butterfly finds
immortality
a nuisance

Distant star
cries out light

Wizard of words
drinks silence

Confidence is
the God of silence

Sun never craves
for encore

Steady lads
You're the farmer
You're the scythe
Sharp like a knife
They're the wheat
Stalks in the wind
Steady boys
They come again
Time to reap.

r ~ 4/17/14

If this is honesty,
then I’m tired of being afraid.
If it’s not, then I’m just tired.
(of being afraid)
It’s exhausting.
It’s all exhausting.
Waking up.
Falling asleep.
And yet I do it so well.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the ocean.
It doesn’t mind change.
Maybe I shouldn’t either.
Maybe I should.
Maybe I should take up smoking.
At least I’ll taste something different
inside these lungs.
I knew you wouldn’t stay for very long.
I could tell by the way
you looked at the airplanes, the clouds,
me.
I meant it when I said you’re worth it.
I’m sorry you didn’t rea—
I’m sorry for all the apologies.
It’s taken 8 months to figure out
that this wasn’t my fault.
I’m still standing;
rotting crossbeams and chipped up paint,
I’m still standing.
Maybe I should take up smoking.