Elementary, My Dearest

In the beginning

I always considered myself to be like Sherlock Holmes

Logical, a little impractical, stubborn, and

Alone.

Not by anything other than choice of course.

But alone nonetheless

 

I was cold hearted, sarcastic, my tongue made of silver

“Not a sliver of sympathy could pass through her.”

Was what my classmates often hissed about me

 

Oh, how horrendously, terribly wrong they all were.

 

Because in the end, I met someone.

I melted.

The simple chemical composition of endorphins took over my brain and I

Never have felt better.

It was like a drug but then it wasn’t.

He was like a drug

And he told me I was too.

 

He still tells me that.

He had an odd name that matched mine

Part of me wanted to invite him to come help me fight crime

Two oddly-named, incredibly smart people

Of course that could only lead to vigilante work

 

But rather than saying yes, he said yes only if I would sit and talk

Just for a while

And in that while I found a boy who didn’t want my heart unless I said it was okay, who hung on my every word and listened and asked how I was doing.

And I gave the sentiment back.

 

This boy pulled me out of the dark and I didn’t quite notice it until the end of the year. And when I asked him how.

He responded with

“Elementary, my dearest. You put me back together first. It is customary to do the same.”

Of course that’s not what he actually said that would be insane

But

It felt like he spoke that way

 

A proper British gentleman with a shaggy brown hair cut that fluffed into his eyes

His beautiful green eyes, well, I say green but really sometimes they’re blue and other times a mix

His eyes sure as hell gave my heart a kick

 

Anytime I cried he would come to me

Not call me a baby

But for once I got an “It’s okay.”

 

This boy didn’t just pull me out of the dark.

He taught me that it is okay to enjoy things

Like the singing of a lark

Or the small

                Little

                      Tings

That raindrops make on tin roofs

He taught me it’s okay to feel

It’s okay to be completely and utterly real

 

My heart is not made of stone or ice

Though it might have been nice

It was illogical to believe it in the first place

Holmes and I make the same kind of mistakes

 

But as long as he holds me, and lets me wear his clothes

I don’t mind being wrong

And in the end with him, 2016 wasn’t so long

 

And now with I get to be with him

The 2017 game is on!  

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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