Literally a perfect situation:
approach the stupid guy.
He's all alone and vulnerable and adorable
but what?
I just let my sorry excuse for confidence
slide away into the back row like the awkward teen I am
lurking, admiring from afar
obsessing like a **** starved weasel
with a pint of bacon fat
until my worry muscles are broken and ripped and sore and bleeding
and my brains must be bashed out with hammers to get rid of the suffering
the stupid, stupid thoughts and self-reproach
worth just measured by a stupid stupid boy's approval
or lack there of of caring.
How cute, my ignorance of importance
my value on externals
and stupid stupid desires
that are never going to happen,
and yes
I am ranting like a little girl in a diary
and yes
I am putting it all out for any unfortunate reader
and yes
I have zero *****.