Whenever I think of us, what becomes of my mind

Is a mess which I cannot trust; I am suddenly blind.

Every day I just grind, and surely I’m not the first,

But even working, I find, time to think about her.

When she’s here, time’s a blur, moving in a straight line.

If she’s not -  it’s a lost bird, struggling its way to find.

She went away again, this time it’s even further

The things she does to me can be compared to murder.

Yet loving her is a sunrise, loving her set me free.

I no longer feel the need to fill empty seats.

She’s with me – I’m complete, everything disappears.

When she said “I am leaving”, she almost saw me in tears.

Hey, is it real, if you don’t let loose a few salty drops?

I struggle to make her smile, and when she does, my heart just stops.

Breath is taken away; I even don’t want it back,

if I could just live forever in this moment when she is happy…

Remind me again of what I tried to explain?

Yeah, that I am growing, every second when we are laying

next to each other, she’s going to make me a man, I feel it.

I just needed a little more time to see it.

So love, if you are reading this, please don’t feel sad.

I didn’t write it for that reason, I wrote it to say I’m glad.

Glad I met you, you changed everything in my life.

You did more with words, than others do with a knife.

For a short amount of time, you succeeded in turning

around things that needed flipping, burned things that needed burning,

and on their place you planted seeds, I think they were from outer space.

Seeds I gave to you to protect on our first date.

I’m not talking about the packet; those were for you, a gift.

I gave you metaphorical seeds just to keep.

They were the last living thing that was left of the old me,

you kept them safe, gave them back when I came to be…

…myself once again. Thanks for preventing my extinction.

You know, my kind is lawfully under a jurisdiction.

We’re on the pages of the red book, our species of men.

The last living heirs of the legacy of gentleman.

Those who would write a poem, those who would write a letter.

The men who would do anything to make you feel better.

Men who say: “I’m sorry”; who are never late

Who would always make you feel special and safe.

So love, I think I’m ready for the future that is ahead.

I think I’m ready to always share my bed with you.

I think I need you, I miss you, I am so in love.

Love, please, think of me often,

you’re always in my thoughts.