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'It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time
It's a shame that I memorised your out-line'
You were so honest about your whole lifetime, 
It took me too long to notice you were never truly mine.

I compared you to angels in the heavens
Always said you were better than any.
I believed in picking off flower petals and elevens.
They always said you were the one for me.

The opening act to our 'Romeo and Juliet', 
No, not Romeo and Juliet, cause they were a tragedy,
Our story is better than anything Shakespeare ever wrote.
I don't want to be a critic, but they were never favourites of anybody.

"The play is not returning with a second act",
Oh, how mad the audience will be, I ponder.
Maybe, backstage, we can still reenact,
Just us. I'll never have to wonder

I hate that you are more than just a crush. You are still the art for me, 
The words crashing down, never leaving me uninspired.
I hate that you are even more than just a pretty painting for me.
Though you are the most looked at, the one that lingered.

The one to win competitions.
I hate that you make my writing keep flowing
In a way that no subject ever has. No repetitions,
No hard rhymes ever. I hate knowing 

That you will always be more than just the poems,
Or the books, the notes on dog-eared book pages scribbled,
Or the playlists, the songs, or the taylor swift albums.
I hate that you weren't an infatuation, ink that just dribbled.

I hate that you rule in my notes app and journal.
The entries not inspired by you are a speck of sand
In the glittering ocean that is about you. Something eternal
Comes with you. Heartbreak or happily ever after, I feel it in my hand.

How can someone be so perfect?
But here you are. An artist,
A chef, a poet, a crafter, a genius, an intellect 
And even an amateur singer. (That's my favourite.)

Of everything you do, there are some things
That I don't despise as much, cause they are
Soo stinking cute that I giggle. Things
Like, when you baby talk me over text, when there are

Little pics of what you're doing at the moment
All over my phone, when you exaggerate 
How bad you fever is, how horrible your best
Is, how many times you've seen the HP series, how late

You arrive at places always, when you ask me what I prefer,
And when you yap over how cute those stickers
Of some cats and dogs are. I feel my heart aflutter
In these adorable moments and my eyes in flickers.
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