To be beautiful and to look beautiful are two completely different things.
Can you really compare the ocean to a puddle?

When you fall...
You fall all at once,
You fall quick and unintentional,
You fall hard.

It’s scary but you fall nonetheless.
It’s the indescribable feeling of falling.
Making your way down,
If we’re being honest falling is the best part because you're too lost in the adrenaline to actually care about the landing.

You will learn that some people are just not meant to be in your life,
no matter how much you tug at them and pull to hold them close.
The universe will always pull you apart, regardless of how tethered you are to one another.
You have to let go, step into uncharted territory.
You have to somehow manage staying apart.

You’re little hand wraps around my finger and I wonder how I got so blessed.
You are my redemption,
You are the reason I smile and at times the only reason I seem to pick myself back up.

Loving you is effortless and easy,
Loving you is natural and second nature,
Loving you is how I’ve come to love myself.

Let us waltz to Beethoven in the kitchen,
Wearing nothing but our socks
and our hearts on our sleeve.

Let the beautiful melody carry the weight of our bodies.
Let us synchronize, merge you and I.

Like the violin and piano, polar opposite but sound so ******* together.
Let me love you repeatedly like the pianist continuously taping her fingers on the keyboard.
Stretch me like how the violinist stretches strings.

Love me this way this,
Bring me peace and serenity like classical music.

Growth comes in all forms,
maybe it’s being able to handle myself around people,
when my world feels like its shrinking.

The mind such a powerful yet intangible thing.

Maybe my growth came when I started accepting things I had no control over.
Maybe I found it while cutting lose what is no longer meant for me.

Or maybe just maybe it was there all along waiting for me to gain some self-respect.

Maybe I needed to be down and out.
Lying in the dirt, bruised and beaten.

Maybe you are meant to suffer, in order to experience the power of healing.
Growth is accepting an apology that never left the lips of your oppressor.

Words, or lack there of

See the thing is that I do not know what to make of you.
I do not know how to describe you,
Metaphors fail me
There seems to be nothing for me to compare you to.
No ‘like’ or ‘as’ because I guess there is nothing left for me to say.

Or maybe I can’t bring myself to say anything because that would mean that I would have to think of every word that you ever said to me,
Or every moment that you spent on my mind.
Or how it simply wasn’t meant to be.

And I can’t bring myself to think of those things because I can feel my heart breaking all over again.

See the thing is I usually compare the men I fancy to hurricanes and storms.
I label them as ‘dashing’ and ‘breathtaking’

But it is only when I am no longer hung up on the idea of them, that I see that they are just boys.
You are just a boy.
But I’ll be ****** if go on and I haven’t labeled or compared you to any of those things because just like I described them,
I will describe you.

I just haven’t found the right words yet.
Or maybe just maybe I’m scared that when I find them I will be far too fond of them.