i miss him and i don't know why.
i do.
it *****, and i want it to stop.
i don't want it to stop.

i just want him to know.
no, i want him to know and feel the same.
but he doesn't and he won't.
that's ok.
no it's not. he won't and that hurts
a little.

no, a lot.

he has the most beautiful eyes
mine have ever seen.
i finally understand
when people say,
you can get lost in people's eyes.
his can make me dizzy,
give me vertigo.
they even make me wonder
if my eyes are the most beautiful
that his have ever seen.

He called me pretty,
and my friends thought that was cute.
I did too, but only on my own.
Because how could I tell them
that I thought pretty had never sounded so nice,
and how could I tell them
that I smile quietly to myself when I remember,
and how could I tell them
that nothing, never mind...
(I like this boy too.)