Poetry Brought Us Closer

She writes as I do,
Our verses seemingly intertwine,
Our subject of choice so similar,
Filled with morose and sorrow,
Of how our "perfect" and "meant to be" other half,
Is gone.

Blown with the wind,
They are gone,
Attracted to the typical,
The so stereotypical jocks,
or cheerleaders, princes
and princesses.

We convince ourselves,
For a period of time,
That they will soon open their eyes,
and see the imperfection stood before them,
grace us with their presence,
perfect us with their ways.

But it will never happen,
Leading us to this feeling,
Of self healing.

As our hands goes into a trance,
Our soul whispers the words,
Deviating the typical,
Painting a beautiful picture,
Which only you and I can see.

While others are so scared,
so insecure to let their,
pure emotions,
drip from their very souls,
we stand here,
labeled as emotionally unstable,
yet being the only ones,
in touch with emotions.

Like a secret language,
we can communicate,
speak of our feelings freely,
Poetry brought us closer.