Boy, I know it ain’t easy, but you gotta be careful when you wear your heart like a wristwatch but your head’s so far in the clouds you can’t see what people do it. I know it’s scary. And I wish I could hold your hand into every day, if for nothing more than to keep the lovesick predators at bay, but we are separated by the most daunting of boundaries. However, even distance can be traversed.

And Boy, I always swore I could never love someone smarter than me, but something about the way the gears move behind your eyes, powered by nothing but good will and hope, is beautiful to me, almost as beautiful as the layers of flesh hiding that sad situation.

Almost.

Because Boy, I know you hate the way you were shaped, and every now and then you may feel the need to take a whole arsenal of sharp objects to your beautiful locks, and I don’t really mind because change is good. And I’ve always noticed how it grows back, stronger than ever.

And Boy, I know you love me. With all that you are. And maybe I’ll never quite understand that, because more often than not I forget to even give you the time of day, and you’re eternally patient about that. You threw all your faith into this broken, shattered, childish man.

Boy, you deserve better than the half-hearted love I’ve been able to give. Because half my heart is powered by my mind, and it knows better, and I know you do too, but why hasn’t that stopped us yet?

Why do we still fight through all the misery and loneliness, all the longing and hopelessness?

Why do I write this poem? Why did you write yours? What’s even to come of this?