Every day I write, I attempt the
herculean task of describing her beauty
For she is far greater than my writing will ever be
And every breath I give is worthless
when the love that you live is hopeless
and I can't even grasp the quantities
Or the qualities of the notions she left in me
My mind is occupied constantly
it takes all of my graded and standard intellect
to even scratch at the surface of
who she is. This brain cannot write of
The sunlight behind her brown- almost black eyes
and capture it fully, and it hurts to not
be able to understand something,
when my whole life, I have understood everything
it's maddening. and she knows it, too
for you do everything in your power to drive me
as absolutely crazy as I can be
before I snap.