Type.

I swore that I didn't have a type.
Then he came, slow like a whisper.
The next boy with a pair of skinny arms -
with those visible veins.
His lanky physical - and those thick black nerdy frames.

My wall crumbled.

I swore I didn't have a type.
But then he came (exclamation marks).
The next one with no reaction on his face; another emotionally hidden character.
The surface is cold,
one needs to dig deeper to find a soul.

I'm falling.

I swore I didn't have one, but I think I do - because I'm falling for it yet again.