I don't know what you see in me
I'm hardly a work of art
I have so many flaws
That I don't know where to start.
I'm impulsive and unreasonable
Indecisive and unsure
I could go on and on
About why I shouldn't be yours.
You're incredible and caring
I don't deserve you
No matter how much you say it
I can't believe that it's true
I'm lucky to have you by my side
When I'm me, just me
I'm sorry that I'm not good enough…
One day you'll see

I'm an open book
on a typical Saturday.
Beside me sits
a cup of coffee.
Barely sits I can say,
but say we are not
in the mood saying
"good morning" on today.

Yet what is love
with no flaws?
It is a mere fairy tale
of our bedtime story,
distracting us from
weary, scary yesterday.

She taught me
That not all
Poetry
Has to be
Sad.

You stayed up late for me,
Even if I was busy,
Just to be with me.

You started writing for me,
It might be a short story,
But a story about how we'll meet.

You've written a poem for me,
About me, us, and love.
Definitely one of my favorites.

For all these little things,
Simple yet heartfelt,
Makes me happy more than you think.

I feel you trying to love me
I see the effort
I feel the effort
It hurts my heart
I'm too ashamed
Too many skeletons
Too many sins
More secrets than I'd care to share
I think you'd accept me
Take me as I am
The issue isn't you
I'm ashamed to be so
Stained
Standing next to your
Immaculate existence