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♦

Why are you so hard to write about? I can swear to any deity above that I've tried my fair share of times, more than I've tried for anyone before, but it's as if you are an enigma to every word I know. You don't like big words, I know, and I've learnt that they don't like you either. I can list the things I like about you and I swear I know how to write actual good poetry, but everything I manage to manufacture appears to have escaped the hands of ten-year-old me who never really understood poetry anyway. Still, I keep picking my pen back up even after having thrown it across the room. I want to do a part of you justice, even if not you as a whole. Perhaps the way you smile, or the way the skin over your eyes is raised as if to create a pedestal for your eyebrow. Your laugh, defaulting as a snicker. The way you slip easy from humour into humorous compassion. But I can't do anything. All I can manage is a list of stupid things I like about a boy who is living a life I wish I had the guts to follow. No matter the stuggle that lies behind it, however, this list is the most beautiful one I have every written.

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