Her words pierced my heart
Like a dagger that was sharp
Sharp like the pencil I write my poems with
I had bittersweet feelings for her
I loved her
But I hated her
I also don't know how

Her conversations
Were convincing
Causing me to confide
Uncomfortably...
I always thought that her communication skills
Were honed at birth

Her confusing conversations
Filled with words that collaborated
Words that collided
Words that clashed
Together

As she spoke
Her tongue was like a paint brush
Painting all the thoughts in my mind
As she spoke
I could not help but notice
How her lips
Created an effect
That made her pictures seem so vivid

She hated summer
I don't know why
Maybe because it made her
Cold heart warm
Or maybe because she liked
The winter cuddles

She hated summer
Because she thought
Her body wasn't fit for the season
What she didn't know was
I loved her the way she was