Fall in Love With a Poet

“Fall in love with a poet”, they say

You’ll leave them in ruins

But they’ll disappear

In the most graceful way possible

And then so

When you think of them

You’ll only ever taste honey in your mouth

Mixed with the bitter aftertaste

Of their absence

Because as for me

I’ll take the dust of my bones

And the blood that beats

Through my fragile veins

I’ll paint brushes across the sky

I’ll collect the colors of the sunrise

And turn my tears

Into ink

And with feather pens

I will never stop writing about you

You’re lucky, you know

Because you’ll always be

A beautiful metaphor to me

You will always be a poem

Safe

Painted in the meadows of my mind