trees gone bad

the feeling of familiarity sparks during times like this. as the rain pours down onto arms awaiting misery, the thought of curiosity is begged..."am I putting myself in the same situation again?"

with new love comes the unbalancing of a life. my life. I feel the discomfort of naivety. in all my reflection I learn only the simple things; mostly remembering dates and times. if I ever wrote a love song it would consist of lessons not learned and feelings not spoken for. if only I were smarter.

if perfection were a trait carried by few, this logic would rationale my love.
but perfection is a trait carried by none, and it is for this reason i feel like I've been here before.

I want for acceptance.
I fear that it may be too late. I want to go home.