I don't write love poems,
It's just not something I do.
Maybe that's because
I've never been in love.
That is, until I met you.
You monopolize my limbic system,
Leaving me to limbo under my emotions.
Look, you know I had to include some **** like that.
Don't laugh at me, you loveable *******.
I'm staring at the notepad app
On my phone,
Trying to think of how to say what's on my heart.
I type a few words, then I stop,
And realize that I don't know where to start.
Lips sealed shut,
Unable to speak -
I'm a frazzled mess;
An energizer bunny of stress,
With electrifying panic.
For a moment I forgot how to breathe:
Giving my brain some oxygen
May help a little.
"I don't know if you feel the same,
But I wanted to check and see."
I wanted to say so, so much more.
Like how your voice is the most enrapturing melody I've ever heard,
Or how rewarding your laugh is,
Or how intricate the stories you tell are,
Or how you say the most amazing things,
Or how you can make me laugh harder than anyone else can,
Or how you're the most loving person I know,
Or how vivid and lively your writing is,
Or how-
... That's gushy, I know.
I'm not very good at this.
I've never felt like this before.
Sure, I've stood longingly in others' shadows,
Feeling some kind of connection -
A string of fate.
I couldn't ever quite figure out though
If that string was tied to my heart or my prefrontal cortex.
But this is different:
It's not the same,
Not the same.
While it's hard to admit sometimes,
I think I kind of like it.
