Sometimes, she walks like the world crumbled on her...head...
Perfect! Just perfect. So I dubbed her Perfect.
The eyes of her silence see the here and there—maybe what’s ahead.
I laughed. There’s nothing that I can’t detect.

Her nickname is Trouble. Her real name is Mine.
I claim danger. Arrogantly. Safe of being unsafety.
Like shoes that have no path. I feel fine...
Sometimes you fly toward infinity.

What if I’m someone I’d walk away from, if I could?
What if I’m someone you bury in silence?
What if our glances are eternal but meant only for should?
What if our joy belongs in an alternate existence?

I want to have the privilege of being yours,
To lock you in my arms forever... I do...
The cliché is true: when it rains, it pours...
And like me, you don't believe in god too.