I slowly look into your eyes,
They are a muddy green,
But lifeless.

Green used to be my favorite color,
But now that I have seen your eyes,
You're all I think of when I see that horrid color.

It makes me wonder,
Why would your eyes be my favorite color?
Perhaps to hurt another part of me,
You ruined another thing for me.

You're the kind of person that makes flowers grow.
Your smile makes me want to cry,
Knowing no one elses smile will ever come close.

You're the kind of person,
That makes birds sing.
Your laugh makes them sing along.

You're the kind of person,
That can calm an ocean.
Your small happy attitude,
Keeps it calm.

You are the kind of person,
That can handle me.

I'm thankful for the rain,
For it covers my tears.

I'm thankful that it's cold,
For it excuses my shaking.

Smiling is a thing that takes less muscle then being upset.
You can easily put on a smile and say you are happy.

Then why does it seem that it’s easier to be sad?
Why does it seem like it’s easier to shoot for sadness,
Than happiness?

Sadness is intoxicatingly painful,
But happiness is like glitter and butterflies.

But why do we choose the pain over the happiness,
And not glitter and butterflies over pain?

It just seems to be easier this way,
We choose the hard road over the easier.

Maybe that's just human nature,
We enjoy difficult over easy.

But it hurts more in the end,
Why do we choose it though?

We choose to be in pain,
Versus being happy.

Why would we choose this?

Because it seems to be an easier thing,
Happiness,
As odd as this sounds,
Is harder to handle.

The beauty in pain,
Is pain is beauty.

How would that work you may ask.
The more pain and suffering you have taken,
The more wise and beautiful you become.

You know how it feels to be at your lowest,
And you know how amazing it is to be at you highest.

Weather or not you are happy,
You are beautiful,
Because you know,
How it feels to be ugly.

Ugly is not a feature,
But an action.

The way you act says if you are beautiful,
If you disagree,
That is your choice,
But from what I see actions,
Control beauty.

Beauty is in the actions,
Not the features.

I can hear music,
In everything you do.

Music is and always has been,
My passion.

It is there when I need someone,
It has been my shoulder to cry on many times.

Music,
Is my lifeline.

Maybe,
Your my new lifeline.

When your laughing,
I hear whimsical bells dancing in the wind.

When your crying,
I hear violins softly playing.

When your mad,
I hear an piano piece, loud and abrupt.

When you say you love me,
I hear loud, beautiful, guitars strumming a quick beat.

You make my heart beat faster,
Then any of your music.