I want something more than ordinary.
I want something more than good enough.
I am far more than unfamiliar, something so unusual.
Part of me filled in realism and the other with vicious hope.

I am not the empty space in your bed,
or the ***** sheets in your hand.
I am not your mistakes,
I am not your change.
I am not the missing ring on your hand,
I am not the slave you pretend.
I am not the words you hate,
or the sounds you fake.

I am a symphony of colors swirling streamers,
I am the wishful thinker, the day dreamer.
I am the waning sunset that makes your silhouette.
I am the daily voice that stays in your head.
I am your reminder of every clever one liner.
I am just myself for you, no less, no finer.

I am the early morning light,
that peeks in through your window.
I am the soft early autumn breeze,
that caresses you in late summer heat.
I am the midnight rain,
that quietly pitter-patters you to sleep.
I am the smile you receive from every face you meet,
that reminds you of your beauty.
I am the passing seasons of every year
that reminds you of me.
I am the one you still love,
buried six feet underneath.