I think I love you
More in my mind
Than I do
In real life .

The way you smile,
I don't know why,
But I romanticize you.
In my mind you perfectly mine.

I have a story,
A perfect script for you to follow.
Like a romcom I wrote
But that's not real.

I not a realistic person.
I want perfection.
Your not perfect.
Neither am i.

I put my pen to paper
as I leave half my worries behind

Vomited the words I once engulfed,
as I realised,
they were always mine.

When male penguins like a female penguin they scower the entire beach looking for the perfect pebble and present it to her like a proposal.
I want a rock
A pebble
So small but big enough to fill the entirety of my heart.
My heart.
I'm told that one person cannot be your missing peice
I'm not sure if i'm in love with the pebble, but maybe the idea of someone giving it to me.
I'm not in love with the Penguin, but the idea of what he represents.
Someone to walk with me through thick and thin and breathe my air.
Someone to sit next to me during a scary movie.
Someone to hold my hand under the table and giggle about a joke that no one understands but us
Someone to give me a pebble
But pebbles don't fill that void
that hole
Pebbles can only do so much
I can collect pebbles like Pokémon cards, but I will never fill that hole
Because a pebble can't be all of you
No person
No rock
Nothing but god alone can fill the void that lingers in my soul
But yet I continue to dig and dig and dig and dig
for the pebble that's perfect for me
But a pebble isn't what I need

I write this a requiem for me
An act of remembrance for the girl I used to be
A view out of the rose colored glasses of which I used to see
Oh little baby me
You have a gift, no one can see
You breathe in air, no one else breathes
You have a halo that rises above me
The beam of happiness that bounces off your smile goes on for a mile.
Not to mention your style
Your existence makes life worthwhile
You are the lily of the nile
You are only perfection in my eyes
You baby girl are all that is good in this world
You are a shining pearl
Your goodness may have faded on me.
But for all I can see you are as perfect as can be.
You, you are no longer me
You are better than I will ever be
So here I write a requiem
I write this for me
Not the me that I am, but the me i used to be
The one that sees more than I see.
I write this for me.

I have always run a mile a minute.
My words moving faster than I could ever run.

Thought through or not words flow out of my mouth like water

I haven't been able to shut up for the last 15 years.

The grass, the caterpillars, tired of my talking.

The grasses are screaming.

The cats, the lizards, crawling away swiftly.

The caterpillars turned to butterflies in order to fly away from me.

And here's silence.

I've never heard silence not even in the depths of my mind.

I've always wondered what it's like but
It's a sword in a stone that I will never be able to touch.

I have always run a mile a minute.

My words are like a fire with every sentence oil is doused upon the flame.
I crave the extinguish of silence

And yet in the dark of mind when all of the crows have flown away
Silence is just an idea not yet formed

I think perhaps that I am too sensitive
The snowflake
The idea that my generation is soft and can't handle conflict might be true, because because in my eyes, all conflict is evil,
maybe I am stirring up conflict,
maybe I am the one whole holding the lighter and lighter fluid at the bridges that I burn.
Maybe I'm too sensitive.
A snowflake in a pool of lava,
I am just begging to burn in flames. Perhaps I just am unable to live a life without conflict.
Maybe I'm just messy.
Maybe I'm too sensitive
offended by everyones words
hurt by every pin
Maybe I'm too sensitive