I see you
Brown haired, bubbly, bursting
With energy that threatens to come loose
Like a champagne cork
On the edge of an overflowing bottle

It has always remained a mystery to me
How these bright-eyed beauties
Are as unknown to us
As we are to ourselves

She doesn’t truly know herself, you see
And leaves her sweet-smelling hair
To the task
Of keeping you away
From the treasure in her mind

There is never a proper description for her
So “high maintenance” is used to fill the void
Produced by the simplest of minds
As an excuse for their lack of imagination

Is she difficult?
Desirable?
Or simply distant?

There is no answer to the wondrous question
So her heart will stay locked up forever.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.