i think it is beautiful
that poets,
from all over,
are able to gather here
to share what we
have a passion for.
and there are writers,
who would rather
write about the bright side
than the darkness,
and there are others
who are comfortable doing
the opposite.

to create something lovely,
we write by ourselves,
but we are also writing
together.
and i am not sure if
this is as sincere
as i would like for it to be,
but i want to say thank you
for writing with me.

Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

Loving you was like jumping off the stool to hang yourself, just to find that once both feet are in the air, the rope has disappeared.

My friends asked me to describe you.
I failed to say a word.
All my thoughts of you were rushing in my head like a blur.
No matter how hard I try, the question remained floating there.
I was silent and with one glance, they understood.
The smile on my lips was the answer.

You should be here with me
My heart is as empty as the side of the bed that you used to sleep on
And my life's crashing harder than the waves on the shore like when you first kissed me
And I'm falling harder and faster into loneliness than I was when I fell for you
And I know there's no stopping this
But you should be next to me
Kissing each freckle on my arm and tracing "I love you" into my palm because each letter deserved it's own recognition for it made up a larger picture
And you should be next to me
With my head leaning onto the very shoulder I spent entire nights crying into
You should be beside me
But I guess this was all besides the point
And now you're next in line for a new girl
I just wish you would give me a next chance

It has two kinds,
One, does not end - a perennial wait for you;
One, bound in a moment - wrapped in your embrace

Today,
We                                                     are                                                             like
                       these                                                     words
apart                                              discrete­                                                   isolated

and the only thing that we can bring each other back
is to eliminate the spaces in between.

She finds beauty in everything, in everyone
But she can't find any in herself.