You were everything all at once,
cocooned in your own contradictions.
Somehow the opposite of yourself.
Proving me wrong in every idea,
showing me something new at every turn.
You could have killed four birds,
without a single stone.
And every time you speak,
the world stops to listen,
because the melodies of your mouth,
are sharp nails on a chalkboard.
And the weight of the world,
you threw off your back,
because you despised people.
But somehow you still cared for me.
The nicest person I ever knew,
and the most brutal.
Every pound of your fist,
was always accompanied,
with a singsonged breath,
a delicate whisper of sweet nothings.
You made me crave the pain,
just to hear the harmonious praise.
And even presently, when the bruises are finally fading,
I still miss your harsh vocality,
because even with a fractured spine,
I am always yours and you are mine.