Every You Every Me

Let's take a shot at poetry, shall we?

I would often like to compare our love to a song.

There's that little rise of hope in your chest when you hear the beginning riff,
knowing that melodic tune is about to start.

The simple riff drifts into that powerful, soul-bearing verse.

An original, non-repeating, beautiful verse.
Those words dig into your heart,
comprehension dawning through your veins.

This is your song.
These lyrics belong to your soul,
and only they understand the complexities of your inner, hidden emotions.

The song phases into the chorus,
in which you know every line, every beat, every word.
The rhythm flows through you, reminding you that this isn't over.
You will relive this again.

A second verse begins, bringing with it a new round of sensations.
And, those words, they seep their way into your brain,
forcing you to reflect on those repressed memories.
Memories of his lips, his eyes, and his skin against yours.
Memories of no heartache.

But then that chorus rolls in, reminding you of a better time.
A time where life was ever so predictable, and when you knew where you stood.
When your feet were positioned upon the ground, not falling into a wasteland of toxic thoughts.

That final riff pours out of you, and you are one with the song.
A song of love, hatred, and tedious passion.
The song of your soul.

Every You Every Me - Placebo

(Pretty lame, I know. Oh well. I tried.)