She will have to be a poet.



She’ll have to be a poet.  The girl I will marry someday…

How else could it be with me unable to speak my mind without metaphors and half rhymes. I need a girl that speaks simile, as fluently as she speaks alliteration, exaggeration, and pun.

I need a girl that really understands me, so she’ll have to be a poet.

She’ll also have to be… insane. I need a girl that doesn’t mind that I’m a random, goofy, over caffeinated, imbecile infatuated with an odd assortment of interests because SHE is random, goofy, and drinking expresso like it’s water.

I am, at time, hyperactive, noisy, and utterly convinced that one day toasters will rise up and kills us all!

Raining doom down upon us all as they march throughout the land leaving nothing behind but the horrible stench of charred flesh, burnt bread, and the occasional overcooked pastry-dish!

. . . and in order for her not to see that as a problem, she’ll have to be crazy.

She’ll also have to be… artistic. I need a girl hell-bent on creating for the hell-of-it.

A girl that would rather draw me a picture than write me a note. A girl so deep, I drown in her, without ever thinking once of coming up for air.

I need a hopeless romantic,
I need a stargazer,
I need a girl that doesn’t think I’m weird

I need a dreamer,
a muse
a girl that doesn’t like to lose
I need a girl that really really loves to read.

I need a punk,
I need a queen,
a girl that likes to act obscene,
I need a girl who hears me burp and does it back.

I need an inspiration.
I girl unafraid of sync copulation …

Because if it annoys her that I tend to drum on counter tops, coffee cups, and anything that goes bump, tap, or thud…
She might just try to kill me…



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