That imperfect smile,
the one I feel understands me.
It's happy on the outside, but
a battleground behind those teeth
like soldiers on the front line.
Those imperfect teeth,
the ones I feel can relate to me.
It's not about what should be,
but what is.
And that's perfect.
She is perfect.
But not to most,
but to me, the most.
You know you've found
someone special and profound
when even sad songs turn happy
because there's a chance that she
might feel something even similar to
what you feel for her, and she understands
that life isn't perfect,
but she's pretty **** close.
At least to me.
And that's all I care about.