Crushes are the most annoying thing to have, especially when nine out of 10 times your crush is crushing on someone else. I have had many a conversations with my crushes, and they have all ended badly, after I messed something up; this poem is just a summary or a run-down of what usually happens when I have a crush.
You can call me names and say things you pretend not to mean,
but just because you followed up with “haha I’m joking”
doesn’t mean there’s no truth to your teasing.
“Jokes are half meant,” that’s what I keep hearing.
I’ll tell you what though,
you can do what you want, but I’m insatiable.
I will never get tired of your snarky remarks and snide comments;
I wish you’d share the same sentiment about my sarcastic temperament.
I can see you with another and not bother.
Maybe I will, but only for a little while — maybe longer.
I’ll rant to my friends and overthink your behavior,
but as soon as my phone rings, you know I’m a goner.
You like to flatter me — oh yes, sometimes, you will —
and it always gets the best of me. I drag it out
for as long as I can. You see, there’s a thrill
to roller coasters and near death — you could even say I’m an extremist.
My mind craves the anxiety your actions bring about,
and my fingers long for the typing that will pop my veins.
I can’t believe this;
not even your absence, you holding her hand or a picture of you smiling at her could make me a realist.