I never knew how to fit you into a poem.
Because for you, words are felt like knives or hot tubs.
We both live in fantasy, where romance exists.
But at the same time, you are logical and honest as a compass.
And I always said I preferred metaphors to similes.
I always described my ex lovers as having a face
shaped like an hour glass.
But with you, I can't see the sand falling, or the time ending.
I see your eyes genuine and filled with passion for success.
You wonder how it will all fall into place.
It will. It always does.
You are the train I was waiting to take,
out of my cyclic masochistic nature
Into a world of senseless sense,
fantasy and logic
and cartoons in real life form.
You are the ocean;
We are the ocean,
Filled with possibilities.
I have always said that the ocean
is where I belong.
Even when you need solitude
to think and write and believe.
I will always be here for you.