Roses are perfectly red Violets are perfectly blue Swear that I'm perfect also I know that's not true I tried being her Girl your eyes see I can't change Still the same me Roses will always be red Violets will always be blue Know I will never Be enough for you
their utility is inutile, their usefulness is, will. always be, in the
reinterpretation, a million and still counting, as long as you must guess at its labyrinth inner wired construct, be pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue, two lives (yours, mine), a paired wine tasting, we together, believing in the greatness of joyous frustration
some say, as I do, the world is better for the utility of thine own struggled understanding, the truest combination of two way communication, surpassed only by our at last armed embrace, when at last we understand our mutuality of need and salve...
In the clutches of envy, or judgement, or denial With eyes turned outward at another life Don’t hide when the inkwell turns up dry But accept the death which comes to life And lets you pass by this windowed world
Fly Fly into the perfectly natural Die
You should look up E.E. Cummings on how Dying Is Fine
One day you come across a guy so amazing-- So amazing you think he's the one and you create this image in your head of how perfectly his arms would wrap around you, how his kisses will always be cherished, how his eyes and his husky voice will always leave you wanting for more
then, suddenly, you realise at twelve-thirty-eight a.m., that if he wanted you; he would have his arms wrapped around you, he would always cherish your kisses, your eyes and angelic voice will always leave him wanting for more
but it doesn't happen. and you finally realise to yourself-- that if he wanted you, I mean, if he really wanted you you'll both have your arms wrapped around each other you'll both cherish each other's kisses like no other you'll both get drowned in each others eyes but you don't.
And it hits you. Maybe, it was your imagination all along. It was only you imagining all along. After all, maybe he isn't the one for you.
you may hate the truth about this life. you may hate the fact about the path that you had already thrown. you may hate the feelings about the feels that you had already expressed.
this world literally has nothing. has nothing nonetheless you. you just can’t accept what had already occurred. you just can’t take it sincerely.
this world changes every millisecond. you just can't beat it. the world literally ignores you. you are the failure for a particular person.
but you are the only one who can fill your voidness. you are the one who can bring influentialness to another person. before another person did it to you, worse and shameful. humans are exactly imperfect.
but again, depends on what you did to your life, take yours wisely. humans deserve to be happy in their own ways, their life might be not happy to face the "ways" they take. time does matter to use it perfectly.
I tell myself time and time again that I do not need somebody to complete me - that I am perfect all on my own.
That doesn't mean I don't want to curl up next to someone at the end of the day and melt in their arms - to feel the safety net, the warmth and pure love of companionship.
Just like anybody else, I want that kind of love.
Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't have been so selective. Maybe if I would have just "gotten used to his flaws" or "moved past his agressive tendencies" I would be in bed right next to you.
I know I deserve greatness. I am told this time and time again, so much so that I almost believe it.
But you know what my greatness is? It's being independent, strong, and brilliant while still knowing I can depend on someone. It's being brave, kind, and fearless while still knowing that someone will always be there to have my back. It's having faith, caring for others, and demanding nothing but the best and having the one who matters the most show me that even imperfections are perfect.
I want an ambitious love. One that shows the movies how to be. One that gives a new name to inseparable. I know it's a lot to ask for - which is why I am still alone. Maybe I ask too much or maybe too many people fall short of greatness in my eyes.
I demand nothing but the most perfect imperfections.