I'm a closet hopeless romantic
hiding my heart away under the facade
of having a block of ice in its place;
an empath in an apath's clothing.  
I can pick out the fuckboys from a mile away,
hands tied behind my back and blindfolded.  
I don't want your meaningless physical touch.  
Why settle for something less
when I can just do the job better myself?  
What I crave is that connection.  
The kind you feel upon first locking eyes,
where your soul and their soul interacts,
and something just clicks.  
When two people share that soul connection,
it's not just *******,
it's a whole beautiful experience.
And though it's only been a few moments
since I had something like this,
to my soul,
it feels like a millennia

Your brown eyes
fill my gut with butterflies
fluttering their wings violently,
they render me silent-ly
I would gaze at you from afar,
but now we've progressed
we're getting drinks at the bar.
This pitter-patter in my chest
keeps increasing it's pace,
especially when your face
is so close to my own.
Perspiration builds on my skin,
yet I'm calmed by the scent of your cologne.
I just want my heart to win
this round of heart versus head
because the beginnings are so sweet,
yet it's the end that I dread.

I always find myself
in the same frustrating predicament.
There’s something my heart wants,
though my brain can’t figure out what it is.
It’s like a wild goose chase;
My mind thinks it’s on the right track
My heart seems to agree,
then my pursuit comes to an abrupt halt
and my heart runs away maniacally laughing.

It's funny
in a not-so-funny sort of way
that the three months post us,
DecemberJanuaryFebruary
and now onto March,
have flown by.

Whereas the final few months of us,
S e p t e m b e r
O  c  t  o  b  e  r
N   o   v   e   m   b   e   r
(then onto the final month of)
D         e          c          e          m          b          e         ­ r
seemed to crawl by,
slower and slower as the days went on.