She Makes Me
She always makes me laugh, She never makes me cry.
My eyes could be like an ocean, overflowing with tears, and she calms my ocean and brings me the sun instead.
Time is not a flat line that goes smoothly across the page.
Miles cease to exist between her and I. Distance is not one fluid line. I'm not here and she's not over there.
At times I have felt closer to her than anyone sitting besides me.
She grew on me like a flower, a very pretty flower who's scent I can not get enough of. Whose color I can't absorb enough of.
I have listened intently to words spoken trying to find the perfect ones that tell me I am insane. That She is just another mistake waiting to happen. Just another piece of my heart waiting to be broken. My eyes have been open, I have been awake while talking.
I am still weary of these thoughts of trust forming. Thoughts of me and trusting paired together as a team again. Trust has betrayed me before, betrayed my heart and soul before. I had believed myself incapable of trusting....again. Yet I find that she has patience for my stuttering. My stuttering trust. My stuttering words. My ALMOST whisper of thoughts in my head. I have been slow. Slowly thinking. Slowing acting. Slowly choosing.
And I've thought what if I am just a challenge? How long does one pursue a challenge before she gives up?
And of all the persons I have known: She is the first one to have pretty flowers grow, and bring me sunshine when I rain.