i wrote this for you.
I am not a poet.
These words just come out this way.
In the form of phrases, questions, fragments, the sorts of things that will do justice to you.
Me? My heart skips and my stomach knots.
And you? You just stand there with your hands positioned ever-so-carefully in your pockets.
I'll tell a joke that only you will laugh at, put a hole in my face, hide behind a tree, then jump out, and say "boo",
just so you'll look me in the eyes.
I have been told, no, warned of the perils of love, but I worry about more practical things.
Like parking tickets.
Oh, I have loved in the past, blind to the obvious, and when it comes to you and me, surely I was mistaken.
Only memories of late night heat, puzzle pieces, and fingers crossed remain.
But you started it all, your footprints still scarring my windshield.
Just one slip-up and we fell. Innocently. Like fools.
And now, you put your hands over your eyes and blame it on me.
Music has changed,
yet still I sleep, dreaming of wings and more permanent endeavors,
because do you know what time it is?
I am not a poet and it is much too late to be writing this for you.
These words just come out this way.
In the form of phrases, questions, fragments, the sorts of things that will do justice to you.
Me? My heart skips and my stomach knots.
And you? You just stand there with your hands positioned ever-so-carefully in your pockets.
I'll tell a joke that only you will laugh at, put a hole in my face, hide behind a tree, then jump out, and say "boo",
just so you'll look me in the eyes.
I have been told, no, warned of the perils of love, but I worry about more practical things.
Like parking tickets.
Oh, I have loved in the past, blind to the obvious, and when it comes to you and me, surely I was mistaken.
Only memories of late night heat, puzzle pieces, and fingers crossed remain.
But you started it all, your footprints still scarring my windshield.
Just one slip-up and we fell. Innocently. Like fools.
And now, you put your hands over your eyes and blame it on me.
Music has changed,
yet still I sleep, dreaming of wings and more permanent endeavors,
because do you know what time it is?
I am not a poet and it is much too late to be writing this for you.

