If I had written this 2 years ago (or maybe even a month ago) I’d say my perfect man had to look a certain way, talk a certain way, and to act a certain way. He would have had to worship the goddesses in my laughter, and be able to unlock the parts of me I’d hidden away.

But as I grow older, the days seem shorter and I know that at one point I wanted a man with stars in his lungs and galaxies in his eyes, who could fill in all the cracks of my broken soul, but now I just can’t say that’s true.

Because darling, you don’t look the way I imagined my perfect man, but I couldn’t imagine myself with any other body on this world. The way our fingers intertwine in that funny sort of way because mine are so small and always a little too cold, and yours are long and always a little too warm, and the way my head always bumps against your shoulder when we walk because you’re just 3 inches short of being a whole foot taller than me. No, our bodies weren't destined to fit each other. But every time I see yours across the room walking towards me, I get enough nervous butterflies to fill the extra inches, and warm my shaky hands.

And sweetheart, you don’t always show me the love I wish you would; your words aren't always what I’d hope they’d be. Often our conversations don’t go as I planned them to. But I won’t forget the nights I lay awake thinking about the way your un-wished, unplanned words caused me to believe in something more than physical attraction. The way my smile felt like it was going to split my face in two, and the way I laughed even though nothing was particularly funny.

Kid, you never really act the way I want you to, and honestly that’s my favorite thing about you. You are nothing like me, you walk with confidence, like every room is lucky to hold your footsteps. You speak loudly and without inhibitions, because your mind isn't plagued with the fear of others as mine is. And that scares the daylights out of me, but it is impossible to remain invisible when I walk with you. The way you take my hand, and force me forward as if to say, “Yes, I am here, but she is too.”

No, you don’t look, talk, or act the way I imagined my perfect man.

Because you are not the man of my dreams, you are my entire world.

-h.w.

I would set fire
to all the flowers in sight
and watch their petals turn to ash
just to give myself a chance
for you to see me
as beautiful
-h.w.

He is a haiku
Tragically short and sweet
And you’re still breathless
-h.w.

What if you find someone new? What if you already have? What if it’s all a game? What if she’s better for you than I am? What if you never really meant what you said? What if tomorrow I don’t hear from you? What if tomorrow I do hear from you? What if I can’t handle this weight on my chest? What if my lungs give out? What if I love you? What if you don’t love me? Do you love me?

What if you mean what you say? What if you’re telling the truth? What if I’m important to you? What if you want to make this work? What if this works? What if I get what I want? What if I’m it for you? What if I love you? I do love you. What if you love me? Do you love me?

What then?

-h.w.

Communication is the key
but my hands are shaking
as I start the ignition

-h.w.

I'm too shy
to say my thoughts.
I'm too shy
to speak up.

I'm too isolated
to make many friends.
I'm too isolated
to defend.

When you find me some paper,
or a gentle screen,
I'll speak up,
and I will say what I please.

I will rant,
I will rage.
I will create a war,
though it doesn't seem me.

The thoughts in my head,
kept quiet until now.
I have found some paper
to make my crown.

Don't put me in public,
don't put me on stage.
I will only blush
and stammer away.

I am an introvert,
so quiet, you see.
But I am the loudest
of the three.