I still remember
Her kisses laced with chap stick and wine
I remember her emerald eyes shining
In the dark
I remember her whispering
"To be continued?"
I know she had blackened lungs,
A messed up past
And a crooked heart
But I still loved her
With all of mine
I remember that question
That haunted her
"How will we ever get out
Of this labyrinth of suffering?"
I know all this
But I will never know
The last words she spoke

All this time,
I've been using the fault in our stars as a compass,
looking for Alaska and ending up in all the wrong paper towns

.. trying to write poems to impress people,
who don't even give a ****.

Well now, I've found a friend,
a few to say the least.
And Alaska may just as well be the 8th wonder in the world,
for her words and poetry never fail to amaze me.

Alas, I've found Alaska!
We're somewhat distant but under the same sky
Two different stories, two difference souls,
but hey, great minds, all think alike ;]

Love like the sun
Loves the earth
Ever since they met
They dance every day

The sun makes the earth
Look on the brighter side
The earth gives the sun
A reason to wake up

Love like the earth
Loves the sun
Because the earth isn’t distracted
By the stars and the moon

Anybody literate can read and write.
But do they understand?
Can they see and feel the deeper meaning?
Do they hear the poets words?
Emote along with the writer?
Find a chord striking them within?
Gasp at the beauty in the imagery?
Hold their breath as the poet weaves magic?
Inhale the scent of sweat the poet gave?
Jump at the twists and turns?
Keen to learn the ending?
Laugh and cry along with the poet's words?
Mope at the end?
Not wanting to let the words go?
Opining their views, not the poet's.
Positing assumptions not the poet's.
Querying imagery, syntax, metaphors and similes.
Robbing the joy from the poet by making grand assumptions.
Seeking to emulate the greats, and join the canon.
Taking what they need from the words written down.
Utilising the poem as a learning tool.
Venerating  the poet and their work.
Words speaking to them from afar.
Xanthic coloured complexions, as they read into the night.
Yanking at the pages of the book.
Z**ealously impassioned by the poet's conclusion.