I could never figure out love,
But I could put the letters on a page.
Letters smacked on a page.
If I looked at it sideways,
it kinda looked like him.
Maybe this was it?
That's what I would say
Upon looking at a clean sheet of paper.
But the words in my notebook-
They are meant to be messy.
This isn't a fairytale.
Love isn't a fairytale,
And if it is you're doing it wrong
Because my favorite poem
Wasn't the one where everything went right.
It was the one with writing down the margins
And a messed up rhyme scheme.
This life, this love, wasn't meant
For traditional sonnets and villanelles.
My pen craves uneven lines.