Throughout the existence of our earth, beauty
and logic have never been as one. I
know that now because your beauty has no
logic to it, and there is no beauty
in describing you logically. These
functions and algorithms within me
cannot process your astounding beauty
and I cannot take it for one more second.
Why isn't there a fathomable reason
for your infectious smile, those eyes of earth,
or your face as it lights up entirely
when you see someone you love? No, my logic
cannot solve why you are so beautiful
as you shine in that light
which only I seem to see.

My home is far away from here, scattered
across a coast of cliffs and geometric
birds, singing their vectors and equations.
My home is miles away from here, sands of
marble and caves of ice, filled with memories
of falling and echoes of laughter. My
home is decades away from here, a vague
childhood conjoined to a vague life of remembrance.
Lost too young and found too old, but at least
I have my new home to keep me going.
Your shaped song and vague echoes of joy will
keep me upright in this place I exist in
until I will one day be home again.

There is a moment of warmth that everyone
is familiar with. It reminds us of home,
the heat soothing our shivering souls
and lighting up the dark. There is a moment
of peace that everyone is familiar with,
when we have that feeling of tranquility
that overtakes the chaos the second
another's arms hold us. The second we
know we are safe within the grasp of another
living being, it becomes easier to exist.
We fight and fight, never dropping our heads
and never wavering for a moment,
yet all of our guards are let down when we
allow ourselves to be so close to someone.
Kissing their shoulder or pressing your cheek
against theirs, an arm around them or with
your entire body - all embraces are
the same when they fill you with purpose and
wrap your heart in strings of multi-coloured fairy lights.

Days like this, I just need to be alone.
I am the chord that resonates within,
yet my music is tired and needs time
to breathe and build its strength again. I need
to have nobody to hear my wretched, desperate
song for one day, yet there is no time to
catch my breath and become strong. There is no
time to be tired. At the expense of myself,
I must look after others and my own life,
so I must continue onwards, despite
the blood seeping from my wounds of exhaustion.
Days like this, I need to pretend to be
social so I can try and fulfill the
expectations of everyone and everything
surrounding me, except it is all for nothing.
Alone, I am not good enough.
In company, I am not good enough.
That word destroys me: "Anti-social", for
it is no fault of mine that I find solace
when the door closes, the whine of tinnitus
bites into my skull and I am left in absolute silence.

It was a cold time. I lay in the frost
alone, immobile and blue from the treacherous
air, but then you passed and lay with me just
to keep me warm, seeing something worth saving
in my empty eyes. It was a cold life.
Yet movement came back to me, dispelling
the ice and banishing it from my heart.
You were the fire for me, the fire that gave
me my sight and filled my eyes with starlight.
The fire that heated me and danced with a
scarlet tranquility in the night, calling
me forward into safety and saving
me from the wind which so harshly froze my being.

I am becoming so sickeningly
happy, and now all I ever want to
do is dance to the music that your words
sing to me.

You are flawed, but that
is what made you so *******
great in the first place.