When i see you, i cant help but smile.
You let me forget my worries, if only for a few moments.
Your name is so unique and adorable.
Im glad you dont read poetry.
Im so quiet, and you are so loud and outgoing
what makes you like me?
Opposites attract?
Im horrible at sports,
while youre making every basket.
Our lives cant be more different.
But i love it.
Me, the book nerd
and you, the athlete.
Whats in store for us?

we collided like stars on the vast night sky;
like the skies every time they cry;

but we were two different poles;
each one on a different stand;

you were the angel
and I was just a human on Earth's land;

as sinful as human can be,
all I really wanted was to love you for more than eternity;

and to love you with no boundaries;
but I guess that is just all but a possibility because really?

like they said we were never meant to be

Opposites* attract, but we're one in the same.
Brown eyes meet green, saying words our mouths won't.
He nods like he understands and I almost ask him to explain it to me.
Almost, because I nod like I get it too. I don't though
It's clear to both of us how blurry all of this is.
It's easy to see how hard it is to understand.
It's nice to think how bad it could be.
Its odd how normal it feels.
Though it couldnt feel more right to be somewhere so wrong,
I love that I hate to love everything about us.

Warm as the very light touch of frost
cold as the new born sun of tomorrow
intertwined in our opposites we lay
your heart, hotter still
your skin, still alive
I rest, alone
wondering when you will not come

The best of logicians make the worst of lovers,
They do not believe in four-leaved clovers
Logicians know what's done is over
Lovers in love-drunkenness don't often think sober.

Logic is a thing of "the free men".
And lovers are not free especially when
They are chained to emotion and even then,
Love lets them fly free over tall feet ten.

When love set's you free, you cannot be caught
In so deep, haunting, immersing right thought.
When logic makes you free, love does not.
When love makes you fly, logic does naught.

There's no middle ground, there's no in between.
Only one or the other, only one could have been.
Tis a truth that only I might have seen,
So deep for someone who's merely a teen.

To concur, I say that even I don't know
Of on which side I would dare go.
I could have both, maybe, although,
Only one will reign a worthy glow.

They defined potential energy as the kind possessed by a body by virtue of its position relative to others.

So if we took the gravity of our attraction, multiplied by with how far we fell and how much we mattered in each other's heart, could we then calculate the capacity of our possible future?

Should that be the case, then could I pick up samples of your burnt cigarette cities for examination while walking down the straight aisles of your rational mind?

Or would you like to participate in a scavenger hunt for my shards of emotion last seen in the bittersweet galleries full of old sculptures that hang from my every limb?

Could your aisles lead to my galleries? Would you lead me in a waltz to lift my weighted being? Should I pick apart the ashes to find the lingering thoughts you've burnt?

Hypothesis? We will never be the same. But I long for this mirrored perspective, when we'll be lovers, lovers at last.