I am not in love,
Well at least I don't think I am,
I mean what is love exactly?
Is it like some crazy obsession with some special person,
Does that person have to be even special?
Like I'm not in love,
Or at least I am pretty sure I'm not,
I would know, I least I hope,
Isn't love, like crazy,
Like indescribable, unattainable, a mystery in itself that cannot be written down and understood in just one poem,
So I guess I'm not in love…
I want to be though,
Although maybe I am because my mind sorta drifts back to you every now and then,
You and your vast mix of imperfections,
Like how you complain constantly,
And how you never know what you want,
And how you insult me every chance you get.
You aren't afraid to be mean, and call me out for my flaws,
Like you don't worship me like other boys do,
I mean, if anything we are friends, but perhaps I like you more...
Weird how it just is ok when we are around and we can talk to each other, openly, with out any censoring whatsoever…
I know more about you then I ever wanted to know,
You remembered my birthday,
And knew when I wanted to be kissed,
Are we just too stubborn to be each others?
Or has fate just not yet allowed us yet,
But I don't know, I just feel normal around you,
Like ok, and If I had a life with you to feel that way,
I be happy, forever
And no perfect boy could ever recreate that mood within me like the way that you do