As I browsed the section of Valentine's Day cards on display at target, I came to a realization; no store-bought greeting card -  regardless of how romantic or humorous or sentimental it is, or how beautifully it is crafted - could possibly do my feelings for you any justice. So, as I've done often in the past, I decided to create a letter of my own.

At other times, when I have felt my own words insufficient, I have enlisted the help of words of other wiser beings. But this time, for the first time in my life, I am at a true and utter, honest loss for words.

This brought me to another realization; there simply are no words in the English language to express the feelings I have for you, nor, I doubt, in any language on earth,  or any anywhere else in this vast universe, for that matter. It cannot be said, but rather it must be felt. And do not doubt its ability to fill to the brim and completely consume the senses, for it can.

It can be seen...
by a girl who walks towards a clock tower and turns around at the sound of her name being called by a perfect stranger, whose piercingly electric blue eyes sink deeply into her soul.

It can be felt...
first, at the touch of a hand, then at the warmth of a figure laying next to and wrapping itself around and into another.

It can be heard...
in joyous laughter and music on a long car ride and birds chirping outside your window to greet you good morning, creating a melody of their own.

It can be smelled...
in perfume and chlorine and sage and sweat.

It can be tasted...
when lips meet and tongues tie and perfectly fit together like pieces of a puzzle which was before thought to be unsolvable.

And I've come to another realization still ~ the fact that I can't say how I feel doesn't really matter. Words, as much as they mean and as beautiful as they can be, when it comes to feelings like those I have for you, are the most inconsequential thing in the world.

Words don't matter when it comes to this. But if I have to use them, I'll choose the three that have the most value in my heart at this moment...

I
and
Love
and
You

What is fear?
Is true love real?
How many times will I let a person hurt me before I give up on them?
Why are you so stupid?!
Why did you love him, he never loved you!
You are a fool.
An
Out-and-out,
Good-for-nothing
Rogue of a fool.
"Take back your life!" says the angel on my right shoulder.
"Face it, you're far too weak," says the devil on the left.
"A fat, ugly, wretched bit of garbage; a heavy burden on the world around you."
"No!" the angel cries. "You are strong! Beautiful, compassionate!"
I wish to listen to the angel.
But the figure on the left
Is
The
One
Who
Always
Wins.

Dreams.
Follow your dreams.
Chase your dream to the ends of the earth.
But chase with caution.
Dreams have a knack for getting in the way.
Of real life.
Of the responsibilities that real life holds.
But don't be too cautious.
For dreams chased are the way to happiness.
And without that,
What else do we have to live for?

She walks to the green room door.
She turns to make sure no one is looking.
She turns the **** slowly, and enters.
She climbs the few stairs that lead to the back of the stage.
She walks behind the curtain in the dark, dim light.
She looks up to the catwalk that used to seem so fearsome, but now seems like a part of home.
She walks on stage, though there is no audience in sight.
She begins to speak words she'd spoken a thousand times.
She begins to sing notes that are so familiar, they fill her with joy.
She walks the length of the stage several times.
She stands at the center, looks up, and smiles.

She is free.

You say you don't want to be called beautiful,
But look at you.
You are.

Maybe not in a conventional way.
You're not a twig.
Your face is full.
Your cheeks are rosy.
Your hair is like platinum.
Your grey eyes twinkle even in the darkness.

Really,
There's nothing ordinary about you.
But ordinary isn't, and never has been beautiful.
And it never will be.

But there is no denying that you are beautiful.
The glow of your smile.
The power of your words.
Your presence on stage.
Your feet as they glide across the floor, even when you're not dancing.

So I will dare to call you beautiful.
Because if you of all people are not beautiful,
Then I will never truly know what beauty is.

Something in my body stirs
As I toss and turn in my bed.
I dream of a castle with my own quarters
And a fair prince who's stuck in my head.

The castle is high above the clouds
In skies so pleasantly blue.
With no toil or care or angry crowds,
And I dream that you'll be there too.

But the dream is fleeting, it leaves me alone
Until once again in those skies I may roam.

I know not my purpose
I know not why my existence continues
Nor why it ever came to be
Nor why the sun rises in the east
They were wrong-
Dreams
Don't
Come
True.
Not if you're me.
Dreams merely taunt an already troubled mind
Make one think they are worth something
When in all reality,
They could not be worth less.
Rosy cheeks
Broad smile
Chin up
Shoulders thrown back-
All the signs of a girl with it all.
When in all reality,
She is merely a girl with a soul of black
A soul on fire
A soul burning to ash
Black, black ash.
She smiles
She laughs
She puts on an act
She hides her pain
She pretends her mind is sound
That she is only tired
That her emotions aren't eating her alive
That her boldness is real
When in all reality,
She's
Being
Torn
Apart.