I like the way you feel,
when I’m *******,
shutting everyone out,
and you pull me in.

I like the way you say,
“Sarah, what’s wrong?”
or, hell, “talk to me,”
and, “it’ll be better.”

I like the way you say,
“Sarah, I love you!”
and, “want some?”
and even, “slow down!”

I like the way you feel,
when I’m driving,
crying my eyes out, and
you kiss me on the cheek.

I like you, and that.
That really *****,
because I don’t want you.
And I can’t have you.

So stick around,
you gorgeous boy.
I’ll take you as you are,
And never ask for more.

However, I can’t help but think…
your other suitors are no poets,
they're only actors who can play guitar.
Have I won your heart?