I want to say hi to her, I want to tell some stupid joke.
But any glimpse of her eyes gets me paralyzed faster than medusa.
How would I be able to speak if I can’t talk around her?
So I just make her poems that she’ll never know exists.
I spend time fantasizing about how it could be or how I wish it was, but I never speak and any time she’s around, I turn statue. I articulate words with such a finesse that it surprises even me, and then I don’t release the “Masterpiece” to anyone other than the beings in my head.
And yet, I wouldn’t  have it any other way. No, believe me, baby girl, I’ve played the game before and I have a knack for losing it. So I just stay stationary, watching her smile or bite her lip and then looking away fast out of embarrassment at my faith in such an infatuation.
I know it’s crazy, but I guess that’s truly what I search for, the cycle of crush and quiet.
Crush Crazy