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She’s the type of beauty you didn’t think could exist

At least in my world

The world of self doubts

And unworldly bad luck

The type you suffer through hours of terrible karaoke at an undersized dive bar off broadway

Just to spend every second absorbing the colors of her eyes and making every cheesy joke just to see her smile again

Inhaling her scent to savor and save for the times she’s not near. Because even in her absence that aroma creeps up like a flash flood coming to wash me away

The type that’s across the country now, her beauty a memory to relive. Right here…yet out of reach

Right person, wrong time.

That’s the type.