I tried to tell you how it always never ends,
I tried to tell you what it always feels like;
Never push you, never pull you,
Never bend;
Cleaning up my act, yet never feeling spotless,
Draining my thoughts yet still so anxious,
Pulling all of my hair out yet still feel so beautiful,
Calming my nerves yet still jumping into the deep end;
The one thing i've been good at all my life was knowing for a fact that you were meant for me, but I will always and forever be a random bystander as you pass the local coffee shop at 7:36 a.m. on your way to work; but i'm okay with that, because at least I know that i'm breathing the same air as you, & maybe we even swim in the same ocean water every now & then, & hopefully step on the same cement patterns twice in a lifetime.
I would be an idiot to not live the rest of my life with you.
I would be an idiot to let you go so effortlessly.
I would be an idiot to watch you hold someone else's hand on your way out of your apartment, and not say or do anything about it.
I would be an idiot to write this knowingly that you will, for a fact, see it.
But i'm not an idiot, i'm a man with no more hair, and anxious thoughts, and nerves that act up way too often.