I've never been very good at listening.
I imagine that I resonate with a piece of you that reminds me of the same piece of me.
When I come face to face with this piece.
I realize that not everything can be changed.
That's what makes it important.
Otherwise the urge to speak would never come.
Realizing this occurrence,
It becomes familar.
Not once does fear strike.
All in all there's no interruption.
The well being of ourselves.
The very things that no matter what, we tend to recognize.
No matter the grief.
And like that very thing I become a child.
Not realizing the meaning of being alive.
Within these moments I turn to you for guidance.
I look up and realize a stubbornness.

I admit.
I've never been good at listening.
Although I vocalize the feeling.
We go through extreme measures when the appearance isn't quite right.
In light of innocence I am struck time and time again.
The lashings of what I'll always believe.
It becomes excessive.
Coming into contact with this same piece of me that I have found in you.
That no matter the argument.
We understand that there is an accord that cannot be ignored.
We live in a state where this paradox becomes conscious.
Separating what is right, as well as wrong.
At times we may disagree, proving in these times that it takes growth to be heard.
And I have heard you this whole time.
This piece of me that has fallen in love with every piece of you.
Both stubborn and impatient

What would you do
if you knew
you had a piece of me
in you?
As much as I try
to go away and stay that way
I still feel strongly
from case to case.
A piece of me so miniscule
but it floods in my head
all the times that we shared.
It is a piece of me
that stays so hopeful
for when the time comes.
As much as I try to pull away
It is a piece of me
that pulls me back.

And if you ever find
something lacking,
Remember,
there is a piece of me
in you.