This not love poem denies the feelings towards my first crush freshman year of college where I convinced myself if I didn’t like said guy, then I will eventually get over him.
This is not a love poem.
Because if this was,
I would say
he was the one thing invading my mind.
Thinking of him twenty-four/seven
the first thing I imagine when waking up
and the last thing I remember
before falling into a deep slumber.
But I’m not.
So this is not a love poem.
Because if this was,
I would say
his ocean blue eyes
and sandy blonde hair
takes me to a warm day at the beach
where the sun beats down on me.
Melting my cold interior
opening me up to the world.
Where every pleasant memory is rolled into one
and when I look at him
he makes me feel.
But I’m not.
So PLEASE remember
this is not a love poem.
Because if it was,
I would say
just talking to him jumbles up my brain.
He speaks in an intellectual tongue
where I struggle to form a simple sentence
as if English is not my first language.
His voice is the melody I want on repeat
the one I wish I could be the harmony to.
But I’m not.
So I said this before and I’ll say this again
this is not a love poem.
Because if it was,
I would say
forget all the guys that came before him
and ignore all the guys who try to take his place
he is the center of my universe
a star so bright
no light can compare when he smiles.
I am in orbit where no matter how far I distance myself
force finds a way to pull us back together.
But I’m not.
So heed these six little words
this is not a love poem.
Because if it was,
I would say
take that nasty little bugger called caution
throw it out that goddamn window
nut and bolt it shut with all the other doubt
because I am ready to leap.
Hell,
I’m ready to jump
if he is.
There is this thing in me called hope
Telling me to not be scared.
To let myself fall.
But I’m not.
So I will shout this from the mountain tops if it will get you to understand
this is not a love poem.
This is not a love poem.
Well
then again
maybe it is.
