I think I fell in love with your laugh.
The way your lips curved up ever so slightly, and your eyes creased as your face crinkled up.
The way you look away and glane back just to catch me staring.
Maybe it’s not just your laugh, maybe it’s your smile too and your eyes.
The two planets God planted into those deep sockets, a beautiful concoction of blues and greens.
Your smile is imperfect but I love it all the same.
Your teeth pushing for room like uncivilized kindergarteners forming a line.
Each crease in your skin has a story to tell, and don’t get me started about your scars.
Their very existence proves to me how strong you are.
No matter what the world has thrown at you, you’ve pushed yourself to give back twice as much.
You see yourself as broken, yet I just see you as a different form of art.
Yes you are different, but that doesn’t mean you’re broken.
Your form has a lot to show the world. It has a lot to prove.
No one stops to think when they look at a beautiful painting, painted to perfection.
Yes they will stop, but do they think?
I don’t think they do.
They don’t question it, that piece isn’t ingrained in their minds.
They see it and they forget.
You’re that piece of art that catches every eye
Not necessarily because it’s beautiful, but because it’s so different.
You were made with delicate strokes, strokes full of thought, passion, and thrill.
Your artist had fun making you, and its evident.
They enjoy watching people walk by and stop.
The questions that must go through their minds…
The thoughts you must spark.
How were you made? Why were you made?
Why blues and greens for the two planets in those deep sunk sockets?
Why not grey and brown?
Why does your smile seem to hold the answers to every question asked by mankind?
Your wrinkles seem to hold such sadness and stress, yet your eyes say something different.
You often look into the mirror and think you are broken.
But when I look at you, I see beauty, intelligence, and the strength to overcome.
I think that’s why I fell in love with your laugh, because for once it wasn’t fake.
I heard joy, an abundance of it, and this time it was real.