Some things can't even be said in poetry, But I'll give it a shot, You are what I'm not, What I wish to be, Let me find the simile, Como se dice, She is my soul, Est ella es mi alma, She is my moon, Est ella es mi luna, And I can't find the words, At least in my language, I don't know how to say this, Let's try it in Spanglish, Like it feels, It feel so uncomfortable, 'Cause I'm so used to a ton of bull, So when it feels real, It feels so unbelievable, Feels, Like, like walking hand in hand with emo bands, Bangs over my eyes and girl pants, But it feels so God-breathed don't tease me, An unclear move of His spirit, believe me, A struggle 'cause my own thoughts can be deceiving, A seething deception with evil inceptions, But it feels so, right, Which ironically don't feel right, Because it ain't ever felt right, You feel me, right? But it feels like, Like trading brains with Maxwell, Or a Belial type legend sort of fellow, It feels like, Like overdrafts, And them kicks is bad and she has gotta have 'em, And she ain't ask for 'em, And it feels like, Like one of my organs was stolen, So when we ain't talkin' I feel unwhole and swollen, And my life was golden, You can ask the homie holdin', He believed in me when no one came to see me, But it feels like, Like the future is far greater than I could have ever imagined, Like, how could this happen? And it feels like, Like five miles outside on Canaan, Or Hariot Tubman when she first seen the Mason Dixon, Line that demarks the freedom, It feels like, like freedom, Like, like some things can't even be said in poetry, But I'll give a shot, You are what I'm not, What I wish to be, Let me find the simile, Como Se Dice, It feels like, Like it's impossible, For anything, anywhere, to be more important than this moment, Like I'm fittin' to bite Incubis lyrics, Like her mouth moves in slow motion when she sings, It's infinitely interesting, Como Se Dice, She is my soul, Est ella es mi alma, It feels like, Like all that around her fades to duo-tones, And she remains this vibrant CMYK, What can I say? It feels like, Some things can't even be said in poetry