My Kind of Crazy

I was orbiting alone through the great unknown,
Like a Stargate mission with no dial home.
Spoke in quotes from shows no one understood,
Till you walked in wearing a shirt that said,
“We’re weird and screwed up, but we’re okay.”

I don’t want perfect, I want bizarre,
Give me the girl who names every star.
The one who drinks Matcha at 6 A.M.,
Says ghosts are real, and talks to them.

You don’t fit in, and I never did,
You're chaos wrapped in a midnight eclipse,
My beautiful glitch in the grand design.
My kind of crazy; my Harley Quinn.

Let others chase picture perfect love,
With their cookie cutter kisses and ballroom stuff.
We will take midnight trains to nowhere towns,
With your hand in mine, and the windows down.

We will find magic in the mundane,
Like aliens slow dancing in the rain;
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the plan.
To find the weird that understands.

Love’s not perfect; it's messy and true,
And I would rather be lost with no one but you.
You're the glitch in my matrix, the dream I pursue,
The weird that fits right; my kind of you.

We binge on Supernatural through the night,
Quoting Dean in soft pillow fights.
We don’t do normal; we dodge that fate;
Even our fights feel like interdimensional debates.

You're not here to fix me; thank God for that;
You're the laugh in the dark, the cat in Schrödinger’s hat.
You said, “If being weird was a love language, we would be fluent.”
And at that moment, I knew I had found my parallel reality.

You’re my kind of crazy, my perfect glitch;
My haunted hotel, my gravity switch.
We’re both misfits, rebels; chaos refined,
But somehow our oddness is perfectly aligned.

So if the world ends in fire, flood, or bugs in code,
We will just laugh, hold hands, and hit the road.
Because love's not a fairytale, polished and new;
It’s a sci-fi saga... and I wrote it with you.

You're my kind of crazy; no doubt, no fear;
My Clarke Griffin, my Daenerys Targaryen,
In a world that wants “normal,” we just refuse,
‘Cause I don’t want perfect; I just want you.

You’re my paradox, my passenger through time,
My murder mystery dinner, my favorite line.
And if this world don’t get us; we will make our own.
You’re not just weird; you’re the best kind of true,
You’re my kind of crazy… and I’m yours too.

Reviews

[Chad]

This is a joyful, geek‑infused celebration of love that thrives in chaos and oddness. It’s the kind of poem that makes you smile because it doesn’t try to be lofty or perfect, it’s messy, nerdy, and sincere, which is exactly the point.