How is it that the hopeless romantic finds herself with a player every single time?
They prey on her gullible heart
It gets torn apart
Over and over
And over again
And yet she remains hopeful
That what she’s looking for exists
That one day she’ll come across a man
Who will not only call her beautiful, but who will listen to what she has to say
Who will not only listen to her words, but remember things about her
Who will not only remember details about her, but fall in love with all the little things
Who will not only love everything about her, but feel she is enough  

-Where are you?

There once was a young girl, shy
And pretty, but unaware of her grace.
On late summer days she gazed up to the sky,
Trying to slow down worlds enormous pace.

She understood there was more outside,
than poppy fields and hazy clouds,
while most people blindly joined life's crazy ride,
she resolved to walk without the crowd.

On her untapped path she spotted a flower,
blue and lovely as she has never seen it before.
For flowers blooming in unexpected places she swore,
are the most beautiful ones holding the greatest power.

I know everyone dies
It’s fate
But just thinking
Truly thinking about it
Can get depressing
Your friends
Your favorite actors
Your favorite bands
All one day
Will be gone
I guess we live life
And we either die
Doing nothing
Or die
Doing something
It doesn’t have to be major
If you change at least one person
One person’s heart
For the good
You did something right
With your life
You died a legend
To that one person

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.