Hopeless, Romantic

The moonlight hurt my bloodshot eyes
The recurrent unfamiliar hotel beds
Had made me perpetually uncomfortable
There but not quite
My voice was hoarse from the long hours of lullabies
And I could feel the December air making my lips dry

Eyes closed and fists slightly clenched
He lay on my lap
Wisps of brown hair tingling my fingers
I gave his hot forehead a tap

I knew it was love, it had to be
So beautiful, but not really
Every time he smiles at me
Chills run down my spine
Every tune reminds me of him
And my heart feels asinine

It must be love for it is flawed
But then, we don’t fall in love
Because it’s perfect
We fall in love because we can’t possibly not