You see, some people in this world might not get who she really is,
they fail to see her brave heart & her strong smile she wears everyday, wanting to please. But they don't deserve her anyway.
She effortlessly fills an empty man's soul,
with the look in her eye, a sparkle if you will.
I guess it's the way she attempts to make a joke even though she's not funny.
It's the way she brightens a dull room as she walks in with the cigarette hanging from her cold fingertips.
She makes you wonder, when you listen, to the sound of her voice, trying not to melt in her presence.

She cannot see this world is too good for her,
that she fits perfectly with the angels in the sky.
But she sits with us, the broken.

You see I'm not entirely sure what home feels like,
but when we're sitting together, side by side in nothing but silence,
I begin to slowly understand.

Home is you. Home is a place that brings no judgement, only love.
Home makes you feel okay about being dumped or failing your math test, again.
You've been my home that allows me to live & a home that has managed to teach me about the entire universe.
You've been able to keep me alive by effortlessly loving me, despite my constant moping about.
Your existence alone has given me more reason than ever before & for once, I don't want to give up. Not on me & never on you.

I cannot think of anyone else who deserves to wear that pretty smile each day, carelessly, effortlessly.
& most importantly, I cannot think of anyone else who deserves to be loved,
who deserves to have their tea hot each morning & to have men write bad poetry because no words in the dictionary are worthy of describing your entire being.
You are the mid night poetry at 2am that everyone talks about.
You are the reason we should all have insomnia, because it's a little difficult to fall asleep when fragments of your face & the happiness you shed on us each passing day keeps replaying in our heads.
With a heart of gold, you make people believe in love & all the little things in between.
No,
this is not a poem,
but proof that when my heart beats,
it beats to find its way home.

You keep presenting yourself
walking proudly in this cold & empty room.
I know you don't want to leave,
what are you without me anyway?
You rely on the sickness of my existence,
the alcohol breath that pours out during the weekends & the tobacco stains hidden underneath my fingernails.

I thought that you left me,
but it was then that I truly met you.
You had a name but I failed to acknowledge you.

I met a friend of yours before,
we played a game of Russian Roulette that involved empty stomachs & impulsive work out routines.
He gave me unimaginable power, to lie & cheat.
That's how you won,
by gaining gratification while gazing at your reflection in the mirror. He was persistent.
I tried to let him go,
but he called you.
You must have lost your car keys when fetching him because you're still here.

Now it's 5 years gone,
I still see you,
I still see him.
We're seeing people to prepare me for your future departure,
there's not much out there though so you might as well stay.

So tonight I thought of you,
I thought about the feeling of staring into your eyes, the way they're often staring back at mine.
I thought about the way you wear your smile & how sweet the sound of your laugh sounds.

Somehow you've managed to sneak past the cracks & laid rest in my head.
A place now long closed off & too dark for visitors.
& somehow I couldn't stop smiling,
realising that you were the influence,
giving me reason,
reason to be less afraid.

I guess it's the way you shut off the world as you fixate yourself in the books you read,
the way your body curls up into mine because you don't like it when movie scenes get too intense,
how smooth your hands feel as they trace over my skin, or your soft lips when I press them against mine.

I feel a part of you pouring out of me in all these lines,
I feel you staring at me when I close my eyes.


You've managed to replace my drunken weekends,
reminding me that there was more to life than staring into an empty beer glass.
Thank you.
I'm falling for you,
I wish you knew, but I guess this is why you're reading this.
You often tell me I'm quite,
but here are all my unspoken words for all  the times you caught me staring at you
'cause I sit next to you, rendered speechless,
Wondering where the smooth talker went to.