I know her like I know my favourite song; I knew 
I loved you before I met you. Her chorus is my 
favourite part, I wouldn't even change it to find out 
what caused this tautological life we have got here
on Earth. A question millions need an answer for, yes,
I'd trade it for her.

I may claim to know her, but not all of her. She just 
won't let me in, she wouldn't dare to show me everything.
What is she really afraid of though? 

Someone with such scars, turned into beautifully made
tattoos, carved out by Mr. Reality himself, should not be
kept in a box locked away.

I ask myself all the time, why does she do that. I know I 
would never leave nor would I ever judge her, because of the
art placed on her soul. 

All of her flaws have subsided into all the reasons why I need
her in my life. She is evidence of perfection, as she is perfect 
for me. 

But, I wish I could let her know that, like how she thinks she 
knows all her own faults.