Dear Crush

Anxiety is when I picked a pen to write about you

And all I could write with ease was your name

Then my hands would tremble, unable to even place a full stop

I thought my diary had enough writings of you in blue

And I couldn’t write in red because I could draw your lips

Shade the exterior in a black pen, and then fantasize

That’s just how close I would ever get to your lips…

 I couldn’t write, not even in black because I am a stalker

And I don’t want to tip toe to the dark corridors you’ve been to

I’m neither a crook to take advantage of your flaws

Maybe I can’t write because I know nothing about you

I can’t even think with your tone in my head

But I know that you’re the image that keeps me glued to the mirror

And the two times you noticed, you waved… and it felt different

Like I’d been hit by a balmy breeze blowing off shore

I’m not always shy, but it left me smiling all by myself

Excitement does that to me sometimes,

But you… you do to me what Toys do to children

Make me sit, ignore my food and stare at the beauty of you eat

And I could do that every day because it’s kinda satisfying

It’s more satisfying when you try to notice me each day

That gives me the confidence to write stupid stuff in my diary

Like, Dear Crush then suspension… then a coma,

I like your kind of walk, how it perfectly moves my kind of body

It makes me feel the effect weed has on people is overrated

I wonder what it will feel like when we talk

I wonder why I still don’t have your number

Ps. I exist.