Perfectly Paradoxical

They say a picture can tell
a thousand words. If the word
‘love’ could tell a thousand though,
it could never describe you,
for I would need no less
than a million to articulate
your unfathomable beauty.

You make beauty blush with envy,
for never has it met a challenge
it could not compete against.
True beauty however is reduced
to an aging pumpkin the moment
you step out into the light, for you
tear the breath right out
from my lungs just by being
the woman you have become.

I know I love you, just for who
you are, because every action
that transpires by your hand
is as magical as a dream. Every
little thing you do makes you
who you are, and in my eyes
you will never be anything less
than the definition of amazing.

From the way your massive
eyes, like headlights, inquisitively
search your surroundings; the
way every strand of your hair
manages to stay in its exact
location, as though held in place
by the fingers of invisible hand
maidens; the way you on occasion
keep a pen behind your ear
in case you are ever in need of ink.

The way you constantly wear
a beanie or a hooded jumper over
your head, as though your hair
is unworthy of being recognised
by the eyes of strangers; the way
you yawn, by throwing your arms
into the air and opening your mouth
wide, like a lion; the way you
bite your nails, as though your
teeth provide to you, your own
personal pedicure.

The way you wear jeans rather
than dresses, as though you do
not wish to become the male
stereotype of the modern woman;
the way your voice, deep and
intellectual, demands all in your
vicinity to listen to such a harmonic
beat, whilst your accent remains
untraceable; the way your tattoos
and piercings make you seem as though
you do not care, and yet, I would
bet my bottom dollar that you do.

The way your writing is amazingly
flawless and never loses a beat;
the way your opinions are so well
worded and your intelligence so
unimaginable, and yet you so
rarely speak; the way you seem
so popular, and yet at other times
look so incredibly alone.

But most of all, I love the way
you are so unique in everything
that makes you who you are
today, from your beauty to your
posture; you are a walking, talking
paradox, and I will never have enough
of you; nor shall I tire from looking
in your direction because you excel
at being exceptional, and yet,
never will I have the honor
of spending a night with you.

It is no surprise that you have
a paramour you can call your own,
for if I have been captured by
your flawless beauty, it seems only
reasonable that another man would
have been ensnared by your
alluring features. With this written
upon the page, where an envious
tear has fallen, I realise I am not
the man you love today, but,
if I be lucky, perhaps I will be
the man of your dreams tomorrow.

A man can dream, can be not,
and I do not wish to have this
fantasy, no matter how ludicrous
it may seem, removed from my
mind, for it is hope that keeps
me going, and in you I have
found all of the hope that I
shall ever need to live life
the way it ought to be experienced.

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About totalovrdose

I am an online journalist, video game reviewer, mental health advocate and post graduate university student. I am a massive video gaming geek; a lover of intellectual conversations; an award winning procrastinator; a devilishly charming nuisance and the definition of 'fun' (sometimes). My blog is filled with many a soporific love poem, and is simply the beginning in my quest to become a published author. Please stop by and say 'Hi!' (that rhymes!) :D

Posted on September 26, 2013, in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 8 Comments.

  1. My new favorite of yours. Well done!!

  2. Your poems always have a warming effect on my heart!! This is one of my favorites by you. 😀

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