This is a poem about her.
The way that she lives.
The person she is.
What she does to me.
She is my beginning and my end, in more ways than one.
She ended an old life of solitude with her warmth, and started a new one. But if her fire turns cold she could just as easily end this life, like she ended the one that came before her.
She is white, she is black..
She is the light at the end of my tunnel, the one dark spot in a blazing sea of brightness.
She is perfection, yet she is fatally flawed.
She means everything to me, yet somehow matters so little to me sometime.
She is the one thing that throws me out of focus until all that exists is her and me and that moment.
She is my clarity, her peircing blue eyes snapping me back to awareness almost instantly.
She is my anchor to the world, yet she is the one thing that keeps me afloat, far enough from the ground that if she let's go I'll surely fall, fall down down down until all I can remember is her and what she did to me.
She is what heals me, she is what numbs me, she is my only source of pain.
She has an affinity for the things that I like, and an a strange ability to discover obscure music that we both listen to with pleasure.
She knows how to use her mouth to deliver the corniest punchline or the sharpest scorn.
She has a beautiful mind, never used to it's full capacity as it overflows with everything she tries to give it.
She can smile in a way that brings down your walls but that same smile turns deadly with just a tilt of her eyebrows.
She is all I need, she is not nessacary to me, she is my friend.
She is great.
She is terrible.
She is light.
She is dark.
She is my sanity, and the one thing that drives me mad.
She is a part of me, A part that I won't let go of.
Never.
YOU ARE READING
Things That Are Similar To Poems. But Aren't Quite That.
Ngẫu nhiênRandom stuff I write because goddamnit I need to write more.
