Hey.

I'm sitting here writing poetry
Because I can't stop thinking
About you, and only you.

The way you walk, your shy
Smile, your complete assurance
With your friends, your gaze.

I don't understand how we can
Be so different, and yet the same.
You're such a gentleman.

You're good at writing, but not
As I am. You write poor poetry,
But I can't stop writing poems.

I can't stop writing poems about
You, even if no one but me will
Ever read them. It's strange.

Lately, you're always in my head,
And there's nothing I can do
That will ever change that focus.

You're kind to every girl, but I
Hope you act different towards
Me. It's probably a foolish dream.

You are a bright spot in every day,
But I wonder if I am more than a
Meaningless, hazy face in the crowd.

Today, I confessed to more friends
My feelings for you. But I still turned
That blasted shade of red and stuttered.

I need to get over this insecurity and
Timidity. I rationalize with myself that
What I feel isn't as deep as it really is.

My heart blazes with sheltered emotions,
Of pathways thought just out of reach, but
May not always be unreachable, I hope.

Well, I don't think you'll ever read this,
And you probably won't hear this, but
To you I still say tender, forbidden words:

I love you.


© 3/25/13