Why am I thinking of you,
in these moments.
Knowing, there is no chance.
smitten.
Infatuated.
dying for your attention.

Maybe if I dress up.
Curl my Hair.
Make up my face.
wear a dress to hug all of my curves.

Maybe if you look at me
and only see
the ****** thoughts
That have consumed me
for so long.

maybe,
you'll push me into
that wall
and slam your body into mine

Maybe the heat between our bodies
will be unbearable
and you'll finally
succumb to me.

or maybe,
I will show up in sweats,
with my hair thrown up,
and I'll cry on your bed
while you cook me some
Comfort foods.

and everything will
be like it always is.
While you think
I am still crying over him,
and not you.