Sitting on the steps before your front door.
You were only fifteen.
Wearing denim pants, red sneakers, and a tank top,
and your face full of tears.
Two hours, twenty minutes, and ten seconds ago
you wore your heart on your sleeve.
You'd seen him. You'd met him. You were crazy for him,
but you woldn't believe.
Your green eyes. Your red lips. Your wavy, blonde hair.
None of that could he see,
while I sat on the steps before your front door
hoping you would see me.