you're the reason for all my morning toothaches, heartaches, long distance problems and sitting by a mailbox waiting for a letter. I still wake up at seven even though it's summer break- all my friends sleep in until noon. You sent your letter on Sunday, then why isn't it in my arms or is it just in my dreams? Or is the postal service just lacking or taunting me and wanting to laugh by a girl sleeping by a mailbox.

Before you left all you said was "I'm sorry," but you don't realize I was playing the first day of my life up until the very moment you knocked on my door. And yes I was born again the moment I met you- but you on the other hand. . .

I'm sorry too, maybe I just make you into a manic pixie skater dream boy who's supposed to get rid of all my problems and I'm so self destructive that maybe I cant be saved but I think you're my color coordination and your hand holding any one else's terrifies me

Is this a love poem? I can't tell anymore I've been by this mailbox for so long. Everyone always puts me by the mailbox.
"Just wait"
"you're too young"
"we are simply too far apart"
That's okay. I am waiting. Waiting an eternity for whoever decides to show up because I had crossed their mind. I hope it's you. If not, thats okay.
I'm okay