I found this poem I wrote quite some time ago about my "ideal guy" and I thought it was hardcore cute - so I thought I would share. It all still holds true, except maybe the blue jeans part, haha. And I'll have to throw in sharp jawlines, hip-bones, mohawks, tats, and piercings all apply.
I can tell you this.
I want a poet.
Whos an artist.
And a story writer.
Maybe a musician.
Or just a fan of white chocolate caf freezes and 57 Chevys.
With messy hair I can curl my fingers around.
Or perhaps a slick black pompadour.
Who can't keep his hands off me but still asks if he can have a kiss.
He'll sing to me, even though its off key.
And won't be afraid to let a movie make him cry.
A little Emo.
Punk Rock.
And a rockabilly greaser in between.
We'll drive around until 2am just talking bullshit.
He'll make me laugh until there are tears running down my cheeks.
Hold my hand when I'm scared and make me feel smarter than a Harvard professor.
The type who looks you in the eyes when he talks and knows never to make a promise.
Who won't mind all the pictures of naked women plastered all over my walls.
Or my obsession with pirates, stars, polka dots, underwear, Johnny Depp, and photographing everything.
We'll go to flea markets on the weekends
And car shows when we find them
Sometimes sitting in the car at night listening to Buddy Holly
Not even looking at each other, just being in the same place will be enough
We'll watch horror films together, and discuss outrageous theories mostly our own
He'll never wear blue jeans.
Because I hate them so damn much.
And have a pair of ratty Chuck Taylor's in the back of his closet.
Let me fall asleep with my head on his chest, legs intertwined.
But I'll wake up because his belt buckle stabbed me in the side.
The kind of guy that just thinking about him, makes you smile until it hurts
That shares my love for pasta
Stand up comedy
And old school Nickelodeon
That doesn't care that I adore dressing up
and knows what makes me laugh or cry
That sees more than just hair and makeup
But still says I'm beautiful on the outside, too.
And I can tell you this..
I want him to hold my hand and never let go.
Offer his hoodie when I'm cold
And kiss me on the forehead in the morning.
Wrap his arms around me from behind
Whisper in my ear
And dance with me in my living room to scratchy records.
I want him to tuck my hair behind my ears
Hold my face in his hands.
Take this broken heart and make it right.
Cute, eh?
Damn.... I need a man.. haha.
I can tell you this.
I want a poet.
Whos an artist.
And a story writer.
Maybe a musician.
Or just a fan of white chocolate caf freezes and 57 Chevys.
With messy hair I can curl my fingers around.
Or perhaps a slick black pompadour.
Who can't keep his hands off me but still asks if he can have a kiss.
He'll sing to me, even though its off key.
And won't be afraid to let a movie make him cry.
A little Emo.
Punk Rock.
And a rockabilly greaser in between.
We'll drive around until 2am just talking bullshit.
He'll make me laugh until there are tears running down my cheeks.
Hold my hand when I'm scared and make me feel smarter than a Harvard professor.
The type who looks you in the eyes when he talks and knows never to make a promise.
Who won't mind all the pictures of naked women plastered all over my walls.
Or my obsession with pirates, stars, polka dots, underwear, Johnny Depp, and photographing everything.
We'll go to flea markets on the weekends
And car shows when we find them
Sometimes sitting in the car at night listening to Buddy Holly
Not even looking at each other, just being in the same place will be enough
We'll watch horror films together, and discuss outrageous theories mostly our own
He'll never wear blue jeans.
Because I hate them so damn much.
And have a pair of ratty Chuck Taylor's in the back of his closet.
Let me fall asleep with my head on his chest, legs intertwined.
But I'll wake up because his belt buckle stabbed me in the side.
The kind of guy that just thinking about him, makes you smile until it hurts
That shares my love for pasta
Stand up comedy
And old school Nickelodeon
That doesn't care that I adore dressing up
and knows what makes me laugh or cry
That sees more than just hair and makeup
But still says I'm beautiful on the outside, too.
And I can tell you this..
I want him to hold my hand and never let go.
Offer his hoodie when I'm cold
And kiss me on the forehead in the morning.
Wrap his arms around me from behind
Whisper in my ear
And dance with me in my living room to scratchy records.
I want him to tuck my hair behind my ears
Hold my face in his hands.
Take this broken heart and make it right.
Cute, eh?
Damn.... I need a man.. haha.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
lima:
hey, those are great words. If only I was 15 years younger, 1500 miles nearer and single!
recipeforhate:
Thanks for the add dear.