Alone in my room.
Thinking about you.
Here I am.
Alone in my room,
Finding ways not to think about you.
Here I am,
Retardedly in love,
without a smile, a little scared.
Here I am hoping for you.
Hoping and longing for a feeling.
The feeling I had when being with you.
The feeling I had when listening to you.
The thoughts I had about understanding every word you said.
My ego, gone.
Just listening to you and to my heart. Is that love?
Or is it seeking for what's already in every person?
I believe in this thing. It's called the one, but I rather call it an inner knowing. Knowing there's some part of you wondering elsewhere in this universe. A person perhaps. A beautiful person. Someone you can rely on. A girl who is made for you... Me, I mean.
When writing this I don't even dare to see you in my mind. I'm scared it fades. This might be crazy, but I block almost every image of you in my head. Normally I have the opposite, just like you I'm a visual thinker.
I see you know. My body does things I don't understand. Wait, I'll try...
I see your hand, I want to take it, but I stop.
I stop and stare, wishing that this is it, this is the moment. But then I wonder. I want to do all of this. Now is just not a good time. Cause no matter how much I convinced myself to forget you, my heart still insists to keep you.
Even this poem gets me sick. Just want to let you know that I'm in love with you. I'm going to do something special if I see you again. If I fail, I could write another shitty poem like this, but if it works, it might be a good one.
You're amazing and I'm retardedly in love with you.
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