words have a peace,

and there's one in them that you've given to me

it's a smile a little less painful and laughter that's more sincere than forced,

it's a desire not to disappoint,

and an impression that you have a presence it'd be hard to be sorrowful in.

and I know we all have our pains,

but the light in you takes the dark from me,

and I'd want to do the same for you,

even if I have my doubts,

like I always will;

even with these doubts, there's something about the way our opinions juxtapose,

and the way you feel both antithesis and compliment,

a supplement of a necessary variety;

there's something in the way that despite the inherent confusion in my heart and in my mind I feel certain there's something in the way you make me feel a disguised disgrace and at the same time stop that from bothering me;

there's just one thing I want to do better and you tell me I'm doing good already.

it's no wonder the skies are always blue or the streets clear with a wet sound as pretty as the birds'.