Post-Mundane

I cling to You with a tear-streaked face

And I can't help but think

What the hell is wrong with me.

I'm not the kind of person that can look at a cup and see it as half full.

I'm more of the type that simply says

There is water in that cup.

I, of all people, know full well that

I am different.

But You see that cup and You look even further.

You see the molecules crashing against each other.

You see the little building blocks of the atoms.

You see tangible magic.

I just see a freaking cup of water.

You do the same with me, you know.

Somehow You see pieces of me that I didn't even know I had.

I don't see myself as brave.

I don't see myself as strong.

I'm not put together or in control.

I only see myself as mundane.

At least I did anyways,

Till You came along.