no, I'm not talking about the ones with big noses
or greasy hair

not the ones with bad breath
or round bellies

no, I just like them raw
a little broken, a little sad

the ones with scars
a story to tell

I sure know how to pick em' you might say
but I'd never give them up any day

a whole adventure in a person like the outdoors
one with canyons and mountains he would let me explore
only ugly guys give themselves all at once
no parts hidden, everything is exposed

vulnerability is thought to be a weakness but in reality it's bold

I like ugly guys.

It's really strange,
how your heart could make you feel so deranged,
it's a fist-size muscle,
yet it can give you so much trouble.

I felt the world go silent,
somehow, inside me my heart's defiant,
I touched my chest with my palm,
I can feel it shouting, it is never calm.

I closed my eyes to feel its rhythm,
waiting to understand its symbolism,
And when my eyes were awake,
I know then, that my heart is an earthquake.

It was on September first,
when I first listened to your voice,
It made me feel an overwhelming thirst,
To feel the heat, I didn't have a choice!

You started out slow,
talking as if we're centimeters apart,
Then you suddenly Growled,
the desire scattered in me like abstract art!

I didn't fully understand it then,
How I reached for my shirt and then lower, near the hem,
My skin looked like marmalade,
Your moaning voice is a bittersweet crusade.

I felt like you were whispering in my ear,
making sounds that I didn't know I wanted to hear,
you then shifted your pace,
it took me awhile to realize that this was a chase.

It felt like both of us, together,
soared high, into the sky,
making thunderstorms and any other weather
not knowing that your last moan was actually Good-bye.

Spending a month in a hospital teaches you a lot about people.
The doctor that told me to shave my head or she wouldn't treat me,
The nurses that spent forever chatting to me
And giving me supportive advice about how my illness doesn't define me.
The woman who was given a terminal cancer sentence
And chose not to pay attention to it and defied it anyway.
How she sat next to me on my bed,
Told me that all suffering is valid,
And just because I'm not dying, doesn't mean I don't get to complain.
How she complains more about her skin problems
Than she ever complained about her cancer,
And that's OK, because pain rarely follows rules.
I never even learned her name,
But she gave me the words I hold most closely to me
On those days when I want to fall asleep and never wake up.
I'm allowed to scream and shout and rage against the pain
And the unfairness of it happening to me.
I just have to make sure I know where the line is
Between giving my darkness a voice and pitying myself.

I thought
every word
every phrase
every thought
that got you amazed
set your heart ablazed

was written for me.

I guess
I should've read further on.