Yet another poem


This one isn’t finished. I had a lot more that I wanted to say with this piece that just didn’t come out. Anyway, I thought I’d post it…enjoy. Oh, and by the way, for anybody who might actually be curious, this is not about anybody specific, so you can stop trying to guess.

She pulls at the salt in your viens

The way the moon tugs at the ocean

Irresistable tidal force

Contained so simply in her slightly crooked smile

Or the way she tucks her hair behind her ear.

She is every girl, she is the only girl

Making everything around her just a little bit better

Simply for being herself and beautiful,

An intrusion of subtle grace and luminous colour

In a world gone grey, flat and lifeless.

You know, deep down

There can never be a way to truly hold her,

Even though she holds you effortlessly, you cannot touch her

You can only take comfort in her moment

Like sunlight pouring through your fingers

All honey and pure and sweet.

She is a million swords

That you cannot help but throw yourself upon

She is imperfectly perfect, a para dox, a conundrum

You will always want her, even when you hate her

She will break you into a million pieces

And you will let her and you will not care.

She is…forever and always

None of us would have it any other way…

via Yet another poem.

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