i love you,

not because you are special.

everyone is special.

you, you're something else.

you are able to fit in a crowd,

yet, to me, in a crowd full of special people,

your simplicity and imperfections are what stand out the most.

when i look at you, i see a person.

a person just like any other person.

you are a child of the world,

and, to you, the world is your home.

to me, my home is wherever you are.

because in my eyes and in my heart you are all that matters.

looking at you, i feel i am daydreaming.

i feel as if the clouds, beneath me, remove all the weight i've been carrying.

what we see when we open our eyes is not always real.

all my life i have battled with the notion of reality.

what is reality and how do i know if my reality is real?

touching the tip of your finger, with mine, 

takes away my doubts.

and, as if the rain was cleasing my soul,

i see clearly.

my words are not worthy to be read by you.

not because they don't carry the same scent as you.

not even because their beauty doesn't resemble yours.

my words aren't worthy because no words i could ever write,

would match the purity you carry inside and out.

even so, i write.

i will always write about you.

because to me, you are the meaning behind every letter,

you are the reason behind every smile.

you are the reason why...