Tired of You Being In The Dark

No metaphors.
Okay - maybe one or two.
These lines won't allude you.
I just think you should know
that these words won't be enough.
The only way I could tell you everything,
is by laying your head on my chest.
My percussion to your ears
To confess the very best of me.
Like I only smoke my cigarettes with the lighter you gave me.
Or that, the last twenty poems I wrote,
were because of you.
I went looking for you through all the love songs I know,
thinking you were hiding somewhere in the lyrics.
I googled our horoscope compatibility,
then thought for fifteen minutes that we could triumph the odds,
when it said "incompatible".
My closest friends all know your name.
I didn't know my hands could feel lonely,
so I write a lot more than I used to,
because that's what bought me closer to you in the first place.
I like that your all over my facebook page.
And you keep my arrogance in check with your own.
You tell me I could do much better than you.
But I think you and I could be that perfect poem,
the one I told you I wanted to write. To exist.
I just never knew that words wouldn't be enough for it.
But I think we are.
I'll be vulnerable for you.
Words aren't enough. But you are.
At least to me.