I'm done trying to write,
So I'm going to write.

I kept searching through a
catalogue of memories,
And soon-to-be's,
Trying to find some great metaphor,
Or situation to use,
But it became borderline self abuse
Trying to find non-cliche *******,
But I'm done trying to right,

So I'm going to write -

'I miss you'
and well, the real question is
Who the **** wouldn't?

Your eyes hide a lot kid,
And that's what makes you frustrating
I can't tell if they are clear or fading,
But I kinda hope I never learn
So it forces towards me to discern,
If you really choose comfortability
That's ok lady gaga because your poker face
will never outpace your smile

That smile gives away more than your eyes,
The sudden urge to not when you know you're speaking beautiful lies
It shifts when you need to look away
And it's because you have to wear it every day
It's easy for someone to miss
the subtle ways.

And you, you're as subtle as a chainsaw,
To the people that actually see you.