you, me

a poetry that was hidden in my old notebook

Meeting you, was like meeting myself 
Cause you felt like the misunderstood heart,
Whose beats were never called to be proud;
 I'll tell you, a thousand times over
But still you wouldn't believe, you're an art
And stop me, from getting any further of that part.

Maybe we have the language 
That no one knows
Maybe it's just be me in the damage,
And I can see all of yours
Because looking at you,
My world also froze.

But love, we'll be asking each other
The rest of our lives
Who am I?
Who are you?
And we'll laugh over the joke
We don't even mean to do
Cause you'll ask me 
"How will you understand me when you can't understand yourself?"
I say " I saw you, I just do"
Hoping you'd understand me too.