My days are wasted time,
Trying to fit your beauty into rhymes,
Trying to turn feelings into words,
And immortalizing a love that hurts.
I could compare your smile to the sun,
But you put all the stars to shame,
You could sustain more than nine planets,
With the galaxies in your brain.
And I could say your voice is like music,
Unlike any this world's ever known,
But I don't know shit about notes or melodies,
I just know it comforts me when I'm alone.
And I could tell them about your laugh,
How it infects like ebola or the flu,
Yes, the symptom is haphazard poetry,
And the sickness is loving you.
Is it an obsession? When I marvel,
When I awe and sigh and shrivel,
With crowded paper and busy pen
Your power takes hold of me again.
