I like you.
A lot.
Like, really a lot.
Like, when I look at you, I get
Tiny purple butterflies in my stomach,
And when you smile I smile too.
I'm acting like I'm in grade school,
Trying to sit next to you so I can
Surreptitiously lean against your shoulder,
Secretly hoping you'll notice me and
Maybe, just maybe,
Think of me as more than a friend.
I know I'm being rather obvious
But my heart refuses to sleep quietly,
Preferring instead to conjure up 1 AM dreams
Of your soft curves and loud laughter.
You know, my friends told me to act
When the time was right -
Well, I'm a terrible judge of timing,
I'm always too clumsy
I stumble over half-hopes and emotions.
I can only hope for you to see all the mess in my heart
You probably (I hope) know all this;
I've been told I'm an open book.