Dear peer of mine,
Thank you for your shouting that interrupted the silence of my walk home.
I'll be sure to mend the seams you've broken.
Dear imbecilic ***,
Thank you for making my instinctual sense of alarm spike with your gibberish yells.
I'll be sure to fight or flight your obvious nightmare.
Dear egotist,
Thank you for the several minutes of self doubt you caused me when you shouted horrifically in my direction.
I'll be sure to note your superficial standards and, uh, not give a ****.
Dear secret admirer,
Thank you! I'm glad to make you just sooo nervous that you feel you just can't come up with the words to express your emotions nor can you approach me in an appropriate manner.
I'll be sure to keep on doing my own thing and you can observe<quietly> if you want.

To the moon...

That witnesses my tears on gloomy nights
And hears my cries on hopeless fights
When it feels my weak and shivering arms
When it sees my fears from possible harms

To the moon...

That makes me see in the midst of the dark
And shines on me and leaves a mark
When it gives me strength and helps me stand
Like I'm not alone in this cruel land

To the moon...

I thank you so much for the light you give
It means so much, like a gift I receive
Your shining beams that make the world to see
The courage, the strength, and the beauty in me!

Don't be upset when love leaves.
Just simply hold the door open,

Look them in the eye,
Smile and say:

"Thank you for stopping by."

Close your eyes

Breathe in

This isn't the worst you've been in

Breathe out

Stop wandering about

Let go

I know

It's hard

God chooses the best

forget the rest
forget, and rest

Dear Shane,

I do not worship celebrities.
I see them as humans doing their craft
and it might seem daft
but I have to sometimes remind myself your a human.
That your just like me. That you
put your pants on one leg a time.
When I first met you, Shane,
I didn't say much.
I made a fool of myself really,
What I said was "You're awesome."
What I wanted to say was "You saved my life."
I have no sob stories to offer,
I've lived through plenty
but this isn't about me.
You killed monotony.
You put my fears to rest
with a glass of milk and a bedtime story.
You made everything seem doable.
You practically sweat tragedy,
with the life you've had.
But you remind me to take the time
to take the time.
You are the message in the bottle
to a man shipwrecked.
If I am a castle, then you are my architect.
You're just a man,
but the hubris of believing that it only takes a man
to turn speaking into an art form,
has to be part of some god's plan.

You got me into this hobby,
mostly because I enjoy it
but also because you make art with such ease.
You can make words resemble a breeze
and then a squall in the same moment.
Even if that was all,
you'd still be above amazing.
"If I knew you better than I know,
I'd know that fast isn't the way to go,
so how about this?"
When I do my own poetry,
I have to separate it from yours
because your words are closer to my heart
Than my own.
People tell me I remind them of you.
I've never been more gracious of a compliment.
I've spent so long trying to sing a swan song
worth anything more than anything at all,
just so I could try to hold a candle
to the wall upon which your name is written
in the hall of the greatest poets.

I could speak forever at this rate,
but I'll close with this.
You have changed me
infinitely for the better.
If you ever get this letter,
I don't expect you to read it right away.
I just want you to have it,
so my words will be with you
as yours have been with me.

I burned all of it.
Your letters.
Your words.
Your songs.
Your pleas.
Did you know you were my energy too?
You weren't the only only in need.
I wanted you here
I spoke your name in the darkest nights,
Wished for you at my weakest
But all I saw was a blank sheet of rain
It all falls down to me again.
Maybe that's why I'm watching the fiery red glow.
Maybe I'm glad some of the memories are gone.

I never considered myself one for the books,
A pen felt clumsy in my hands,
Something too delicate to touch,

You introduced me to my first romance,
Tales of rivers and sweet words of Hughes,
Pages were my optics, my eyes danced in the light,

Nights turned into highways of jazz and beat poet longings,
Kerouac and Ginsberg whispering into my ear
of corrupted ivy manifestos,

Maya told me to sing, I did.
My love for her still echoes in her passing,
Set sail to the open waters where Neruda lies,
sonnet 17 afloat upon the tides,

You knew my addiction before I ever got high on the ink,
Drifting across the sentences in the midnight hours,
A prayer in thanks of what you gave to me