do you know the feeling
the twisted tremors
the slippery shivers
that linger in the
pit of your stomach
the feeling that something is wrong
the feeling that you
are left out
messed up
wrong
when you did nothing
and it seems that maybe
if given the chance
you could've done something
been somewhere
accomplished something
but the feeling in the pit of your stomach
only serves to remind you
of time wasted

its the small things that
entice me to you
the way your glasses
kiss your cheekbones
the way you blush
when I cant
contain my stare
the way
your
voice is deeper than the pacific
and you are
as tall
as the leaning tower
I love how you
are scared of spiders
because I am too
I love that bone that gently emerges
when you
play violin
first chair
but that bone
entices me
almost as much as your smile
because you
fill the sum of your parts
with music

eating hot food
is like a little
challenge
to swallow
before it burns your mouth
before the food wins
the struggle to avoid
my stomach
chew fast, mouth a bit open
******* air in and out
on short pants
but I win
GULP
down it goes
I can feel its warmth smoldering
in my belly

sometimes
its so easy to be manic
around you
to be nosy
and
annoying
but I thought that
maybe you saw
it as normal
like maybe it was obvious
in the way I look at you
that you are all I ever think about
that other boys
are just distractions
from you
but when prodded
you call me nosy and annoying
I never thought
I never dreamed
that all those hours we spent together
were a chore for you
all those messages we exchanged were
just
trying
to get me to leave you alone
I thought i'd be broken
be sad
lonely
a mess
when you rejected me with a
'lets be friends'
but now its worse
because
we were never friends
in
the first place

I often wonder
why
certain things seem funny
giggling in class
stupid  
juvenile jokes
scrawled across wrinkled
scraps of paper
some is offensive
i'm shocked I wrote it in review
some is raunchy
I wonder if something passed between me and you
but mostly I think it was just the thrill
because it was between you and me
wasting our days
scribbling away on torn
pieces of paper

there is a woman
who drives
the bus I take to school in the morning
I always wonder, more often than not
why she works on a bus
it must be tedious and boring
running the same route over and over again
dealing with girls like me
who
more often than not
forgot their money
she is pretty, young
wears expensive sunglasses
but she drives the high school bus
full of loud, rude kids
instead of something
she would find more
appealing.
but maybe she likes the repetition, the change
the power of driving us each day
maybe she relishes our little lives
in her hands
which grip the steering wheel
as she navigates the streets
maybe she enjoys the challenge
of wide turns and
negotiating her way through the streets like
an overweight pedestrian
on a busy sidewalk

I told you today
in a round about way
that I loved you
I spilt secrets and feelings on that blessed white page
hoping it had been sage
to admit in finality that I love you
now I await
for your response post haste  
as you struggle to figure out my name
and my heart I try to tame
as it flutters and beats
at your chairs every squeak
and I pretend cool
as I curse that once again I let my heart rule
over logic and pride
I need to learn to smite
these whims of adrenaline
and fix my hearts painful regimen
of loving you