Someone once told me
To make sure I feel my pain,
Emotions are a spectrum,
Not a fire to be tamed.
And now here I was again,
Playing it safe.
Mediocre love for mediocre pain.
But the truth cannot hide
Behind the practicality of my brain.
The hopeless romantic, the girl on fire,
The poet smiling at the rain,
They cannot be contained.
Even if in light of pain,
And seemingly hopeless wandering and days so same,
A bolder life, a wilder love,
None can deny,
The vision’s a gift from above.
At last I see that I may breathe,
The air which well adores you.
At last, my months of hopeless longing,
Have ended in the seemingly proper destination.
I give my good luck a standing ovation.
But as the smoke clears,
And the sweetness in my heart,
Is quick to wear off,
I see I may have been mistaken.
Your eyes are not like sunshine;
They gaze and see right past me.
Your demeanor isn’t charming;
It’s childish and bombastic.
And all the pretty blonde hair,
Can never make up,
For lack of substance under there.
Maybe I’m insane for sharing,
My poetry, my time, my thoughts with you.
Maybe fate’s a silly creature,
And it’s time I got a clue.
I’m going to be honest,
I have no idea what color your eyes are,
For I’ve never been close enough to see them.
I admire you from afar.
Your golden hair,
Your melodic voice.
I never have a reason to talk to you,
You have your friends, I have mine,
Two social circles never meeting,
But I still think you far too much;
I can’t get your out of my head:
Your face, your smile.
All I can do is hope,
That one day you’ll notice me too.
A faint scent of perfume,
A tiny glimpse of sun,
A joyful quiet whisper,
A single drop of rum.
The sight of you,
Though not enough to shake me,
Brings out a rich forgotten storybook,
Of sweetness, people, and of dreams.
It calls for me to place you in it,
Although it’s bursting at the seams.
Don’t know if it can be love,
But I hardly mind.
Your presence is an inspiration,
To welcome what I thought it best to leave behind.
Unlike old times of scars,
‘Tis now a pleasure to break,
If I should break at all.
Now, this warm wind I feel,
Is enough to soften much a fall.
‘Tis a pleasure to be captured,
As if dreaming of a valentine in the 5th grade,
And be walking home from school,
To the music of his face.
For once I am unafraid.
I have glimpsed at beauty;
It’s at more than just a well-know place.