I've always been a fan of distress.
Maybe it's the broken words that get woven into melodies,
that I would relate to in the past, but remember in the present.
The heart breaks in hall ways and idling cars.
The bitter bedrooms, queen sized quilts of cluelessness,
Pessimism encompassing optimism as the day surrenders to night
and no aubades are sung.

I've also always been a fan of love,
A beautiful mind I wouldn't mind exploring.
Searching for love can wear a person out,
so I became my other half, and I learned to love who I am.
I fell in love with the idea of being in love with life.

And when you came into my life, etherial and honest
something out of a book I've never read.
The poems in every chapter that appear as we evolve are beautiful.
I still have a soft spot for the melancholy.
I'm still in love with the fine, light rain that falls in the evening hours,
the serenity of silence and aubades as the sun expires.


But I'm also in love with you and your undying ability to love me.
I've gotten to know your mind, your body, your countless strengths and the imperfections you see in yourself but I can't.
The way your words convey confidence and belief.
I don't know if the universe fights for souls to be together,
but I think some things are just too strange and strong to be coincidences.