Eighteen,
fairly innocent and naive;
you were the oldest person to ever kiss me,
on the lips.
With fingers interlocked or your arm around me,
didn't even hesitate to think there was a chance for this to be.
You said you were surprised,
that we sat on the bus
together, knees touching.
Never knew I'd like the feel of butterflies gracing my cheek,
my neck.

"Can I steal a kiss?"
It ain't stealing if you ask,
but it's the though that counts, right?

Seventy-two hours,
that's about it.
Kissed and hugged,
nothing else it seems.
What's so poetic about staring at a cellular screen
Constantly,
in some sort of anticipation,
for some smiley faces and flirty words
with approval and consent?
If I ****** up,
did something wrong,
if I bored you,
just let me try again.
I'm desperate for affection
and for your attention.

Stupid teenage heartbeat,
Stupid ******* crush.