I don't write love poems,
It's just not something I do.
Maybe that's because
I've never been in love.
That is, until I met you.

You monopolize my limbic system,
Leaving me to limbo under my emotions.
Look, you know I had to include some **** like that.
Don't laugh at me, you loveable *******.

I'm staring at the notepad app
On my phone,
Trying to think of how to say what's on my heart.
I type a few words, then I stop,
And realize that I don't know where to start.

Lips sealed shut,
Unable to speak -
I'm a frazzled mess;
An energizer bunny of stress,
With electrifying panic.
For a moment I forgot how to breathe:
Giving my brain some oxygen
May help a little.

"I don't know if you feel the same,
But I wanted to check and see."
I wanted to say so, so much more.
Like how your voice is the most enrapturing melody I've ever heard,
Or how rewarding your laugh is,
Or how intricate the stories you tell are,
Or how you say the most amazing things,
Or how you can make me laugh harder than anyone else can,
Or how you're the most loving person I know,
Or how vivid and lively your writing is,
Or how-


... That's gushy, I know.
I'm not very good at this.
I've never felt like this before.
Sure, I've stood longingly in others' shadows,
Feeling some kind of connection -
A string of fate.
I couldn't ever quite figure out though
If that string was tied to my heart or my prefrontal cortex.

But this is different:
It's not the same,
Not the same.
While it's hard to admit sometimes,
I think I kind of like it.

You're looking for a girl
To give you character development;
Someone who can sweep you off your feet,
And change your life.
I can tell you one thing, bucko -
She's not gonna be me.

You're looking for a girl
Who can make the stars move to the rhythm of her voice.
The type of girl who, with a glint in her eye,
Sets the world on fire with will alone.
You expect me to be like that?
Please, I can hardly get out of bed
Most mornings.

I used to feel like it was wrong to be normal.
I used to feel guilty for being average.
It took me a while to realize that
It's okay to be proud of who I am,
Even if I'm as simple and bog-standard as they come.

Do I look like my name is Mary Sue?
Bug off,
I've got better things to do.

I've got no pop; no tangy sugary bite.
I'm not your type.

You need to forget me.
I'm not cute or pretty;
I'm not innocent and sweet.
I may not laugh at all your jokes.
I'm not your type, I'm no bubblegum girl.

I don't bubble up and out,
With a sunshine smile and a warm hand.
I have weird knees and baggy eyes,
And my body is like nicotine gum.
You'll quit me and go back to the real thing.

The wrapper is in the trash,
So there's nowhere to spit me out.
So I run around the house at night,
Like a careless kid in the rain,
Splashing in puddles from my indulgent tears.

You need to forget me.
I'm not your type,
But I'd love you more than I've loved anyone.
I'd bury my heart in my tiny backyard
If that's what it took to make you happy.

You play my heart like a harpsichord,
Making me feel things that
I never wanted to feel.

They say that you're a player,
But I'd have to disagree.
I have a sneaking suspicion that
You're actually a puppeteer,
Because I can't move my limbs
When you're not around.

C, c, d -
Clair de Lune in C minor.
Otherwise known as the sound of
The buffoon shedding tears.
When the moonlight comes, I ponder.
Only then, in that moment, do I doubt.

Are your glass eyes empty?
I thought for sure that they sparkled with light.
But even if that was my mind's reflection
I still want you.

Brilliant cherry reds
Scattered like stars across the tile floor.
Their sheen is alluring -
A bright dollar store sparkle;
A candied shimmer to disguise triviality.

All it takes is a jagged nail
To scratch away the lie,
Thinly veiled by a coat of paint and acrylic.
"A person's true colors will always show in time,"
Or so the saying goes.

The deceit is lovely.
It carries an aromatic falsehood
With promises of

                          truth,

                                    gentleness,

                                                    and beauty,

All pretending to glimmer in your plastic ruby eyes.