Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

Somebody,
If you ever read this,
I miss you.
Every day.
All the time.
With no end in sight.
I miss you almost more than I can say,
almost more than I'll admit.
You're my best friend,
my soul,
my heart.
You're the reason I'm going strong.
You're who I think of,
with nothing to do,
and also who I think of,
in my day through and through.
I miss you more than the sun misses the moon,
only seeing you once in fleets of stars.

Dear Nobody,
I still wish you were here.
You're the reason I'm now living.
You're the voice in my head saying no.
Saying,
That idea's stupid.
Do it.
You're my deep down best friend.
You know me better than anyone.
You're the person these paragraphs are for.
All the time.
All the poems I write.
You're somewhere in my mind.
Still inspiring me.
To push the limits and
DO IT.
Push yourself.
And your own limits.
As well as the world.

This is almost poetic, I suppose.
Maybe I should stop that......or not.
One of you may be my somebody-nobody.
My person.
I guess you both are.
Opposites but the same
In my heart.
The ones who just...CLICK.

Maybe we'll never be romantic,
and I think that's fine.
But that doesn't mean I won't miss you.
Until we meet again,
long lost friends.
I'll be here.