You look at her,
She's beautiful,
She's funny,
And unique.

But,
She isn't her.

You look at her dark straight hair.
You stare--
Touch it even.

It slowly transforms into curly twists before your eyes.
You stare in disbelief;
Rub your eyes.

You stare at her round sweet face,
Her pretty eyes,
And her petite lips.

It shape shifts into a strong jawline,
Gorgeous brown eyes (that you fell in love with once),
And soft vivacious lips.

You rub your eyes.

You hear her voice,
It's soft and new.
You smile.

Soon her voice mixes into another,
It's so velvet and mesmerizing.
You can't believe it.

Everywhere you look, images of the girl appear,
Every song you hear is sung by her,
And every sleeping-waking thoughts you have is her.

Aren't you over it?

You tangle your hand into hers.
Hoping the image will stay.
You hold onto her,
Begging the feeling to never stray.

You coil back, and
You look at her.

She isn't me--

And she never will be.

You feel you are a stack of mortar and brick
I see you as a sailing ship
So funny how these things contradict
You think you’re still, I say you’re still moving

Shift with me, but standing against the waves
You’re not one for the newest craze
Traditional as you innovate
You and your wonderful “you-ness”

See each time you rise and fall
Ship to sea, not stagnant wall
Consistently moving, never to be stalled
Till your destination is reached

And until you sail again

Broken is renewed
Honored for its damages
Better than before

she's made of words
of unspoken poetry
a series of novels in the making
and skin littered in love letters

each time she whispers in my ear
i hear lyrics and verses of unsung songs
a melody so sweet
sweeter than wine
and candy combined

each letter she strings together
looks like constellations across the evening
and every syllable she utters blows up in sparks
like lightning in the night sky

yes, she may be hard to read
but she's fun to analyse
how one can be so complex
so beautiful
at the same time

truly
there is no one like her
someone who can speak her own mind
she's unique, fantastical
one of a kind.

I'm the verses others
                  wish to syllabise,

But I'll be to wordy to condense

into rhyme or reason..


I never configure to a word
                                            count,

To abstract for other to realise
        the meaning of my existence.
my lifes just to complicated to put







                                       into any kind of words.
                                                                               .
                                                                               .
                                                                               .
                                                                               .
                                                                               .
                                                                               .
                                                                               .

Beautiful and unique
But also quite terrifying
Alone in a bed of colorful flowers
Always left unwanted.

Beautiful black rose
Alone and thorny
Different and feared
None appreciates its beauty.

Many wanted to pick it
But no one dared to reach it
The only one left among its peers
New generation now surrounds it.

I've watched it for quite some time
It is as lonely as me
I picked it up and carried it back home
Decided it to plant it in a ***.

I will take care of this rose
So we'll no longer be alone
I will appreciate your uniqueness
Because we are as lonely as each other.

"All the stuff in our veins is the same." Guy Garvey.

Some stuff is the same.

First school,
Graduation

First pet,
Grief

First bicycle,
Grazes

First kiss,
Heartbreak

Some stuff is only yours and makes you.