dear friend,
I can hear you
listening.
through the static
your voice carries
to the other side.

and you're falling apart,
one Saturday at a time
I can feel it
your heart in my hands
so ******, so frightened.
it's beating hysterically.
thump.
thump.

knowing you is
all that I can ask.
contentment arises
from your company
as I tell myself
what to think.

we're happy here.
no identification,
no forest fires,
just snaking vines
and sun-streaked regret.
it's quiet.

I only wanted to know you
as I had within a dream,
I woke up with wet eyes.
I woke up terrified,
I awoke in grief.
you will never die
in the places you hide.

living in the gold sunlight.
living in darkness.
living in the belly of the beast.
I know you.
I need you.

friend,
take care.
you say you need me
on your journey,
across the water
across the sand,
and I'll go with you.
it's better that way.

I may be a poet but I'm not good with words
I'm not good with words that should be spoken, or words alongside chords
I'm not good with words that are supposed to be echoed
Or words that require a brave voice

I may be a poet but I'm not good with words
I don't memorize all the words in Mr. Webster's books
Neither the classic words Mr. Shakespeare wrote
No, I am not someone who can really boast

I may be a poet but I'm not good with words
I cannot express well and have words in its proper use
I don't know how to start, I do not know the exact dose
I'm afraid they may be wrong, the words that I might choose

I may be a poet but I'm not good with words
The words and what I mean, might not get even close
The battle between my heart and mind might not even have a truce
Because I tend to have many, and contradicting views

I may be a poet who is not good with words
But I'm good at words written with a pen and a note
To know what I mean, you'll just need to put an effort
Read and digest, all I have to say is written on what we all call, a poem

My poems are mine and
I don't think it's time for you
to get to know them.

They are not ready,
I know you are not ready,
I am not ready.

When the time is ripe
and these words finally made
sense to you and me,

maybe, just maybe
I'll let you sneak a peak and
give them one by one.

we were lying down on the grass,
watching the beauty of the sky;
she had her eyes on the stars,
i had my eyes on my world