I remember you asked me a hard question.

No it wasn’t about algorithms, it wasn’t about physical chemistry, it was about..

“Why do you love me?”

Ah, how can I answer this?

Maybe it was because of your goofy smile at the hall
Maybe it was because of the way your gaze always remain soft everytime you stare at me
Maybe it was because the way you sweep your sweat in the middle of the day
Maybe it was because how your ears got red when you’re happy.

But, no. Not at all. You were just being you.

“It’s because of who you are when you’re with me.”

I have never loved my flaws
                  my tiger stripes
                  my large forehead
                  my imperfect skin
                  my unsymmetrical bones

But he loves them
       he admires them

He told me that I don’t have to be perfect
                     I don’t have to be insecure

He makes me feel the beauty of loving and be loved
He makes me admire myself.

you made words and phrases
arrange themselves fluently into
a constellation of words

but it scares me, really
it scares me because
that means
you also have the energy
to describe myself
with
my
own
poems

as much as you give
to other people
still
it won't be enough

you're not here
to please them

you're here
to please yourself

they don't own you
you own yourself

put faith in yourself

I was drowning
and you were the raindrops

but somehow
you were also the air
that I needed to breath

how it is
I’ll never understand