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

fishes could swim through my ribs
when I saw you

flowers started growing on the palms of my hands
when I saw you

the stars made their home in my eyes
when I saw you

lover
I will join you by the riverbed
and rest on your collarbones

I
am
healing
but I don't want you to take off your shoes in my home yet

I
am
healing
but I'm still afraid of your touch

I
am
healing
but while I'm healing, you're burning like a broken electric wire, and while you burn you bloom

so yes, I am healing
slowly
trembling
feeling numb
but healing

i have anxiety
undiagnosed.

sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with crumpled ***** of paper: the things I never said, the things I should have never said, the things that someone never said to me.

all of these things are written on every piece of paper
there are so many right now that no more would be able to fit
yet i can't stop thinking things, i can't stop saying stupid things, i can't stop wishing things.

i sigh I reach up to my forehead and i grasp my bangs
with my shaky hands and pull

i'm hoping one day when i do this
the top of my head will yank open
all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts
will pour out in a pile
on the floor
i will kneel down
and uncrumple each and every piece
i will read each one
until my head fills up again.

You taught me I was blind
What I thought was wrong
Until someone else came along
“You can see can you not?”
And I said, “No darling. Because that was what I was taught.”

A broken mother loves from a distance
She keeps you at arm's length to prevent her from suffocating you
She can't stand your sadness but will do nothing to restore your happiness
She stays up all night wondering
If you inherited her illness
If by chance you were destined to walk through the same path
Do not mistake her for a bad mom
Loss is the only language she understands

A broken mother will never hide her feelings from you
She will serve you a plate of her deepest scars on her anniversaries
Just like the generous cook she is
She will tell you stories behind the recipe over dessert
She can't stand to see your heart broken
But she will do nothing to make you feel better
Do not mistake her for a bad mom
Heartbreak is the only language she understands

A broken mother will never believe in your dreams
She will make it her duty to remind you of your past failures
Hell will break loose if you ever talk about your nightmares
She can't stand your wounds
But she will do nothing to make them heal
Do not mistake her for a bad mom
Abuse is the only language she understands

You are everything I haven't written poetry about yet.

Happiness is
dancing in the
darkness
and exhausting
yourself
in the chasing
of your dreams.