I want to hold your hand.

I want to watch movies with you in your basement.

I want to watch you play video games while I sit on my phone and laugh about what a dork you are

I want to dance with you.

I want to dance with you at the prom, you brought me flowers, you said I look beautiful and I got all flustered, you held me softly around the waist, my arms lie draped over your shoulders. I want to dance with you like nobody’s watching us, like nobody else matters.

I also want to dance with you alone at midnight in your living room, there’s no music playing but I can hear your gentle breath hitting my neck, your pulse tapping against my fingertips like a melody.

I want to meet your friends and joke with them like my own. I want them to poke fun of our antics, at your smile when you see me and your eyes when you laugh. I want them to laugh at us and call us silly because they don’t know what it feels like to have what we have.

I want to pass you in the hallways and I want you to smile at me. I want you to kiss me on the cheek and call me baby, I want you to walk me to my locker and ask me ‘how was class’, I want to sit in that class and think about being with you, only this time I want to leave that class and be with you again.

Can't you see I’m tired of being without you.

I’m tired of seeing you in the halls and avoiding your gaze, avoiding your smile

I’m tired of watching you laugh with your friends I’ve never seen before

I’m tired of dancing alone

How am I supposed to know I’m beautiful if you aren’t there to tell me?

The only thing i’m certain of is the beauty in you, not me.

I want to peck kisses against every scar on your skin

I want to make constellations out of your freckles

I want to run my hands through your messy tangled locks

I want to tell you tales of how your eyes crinkle when you laugh, my heart flutters when you smile, my stomach ties in knots and my throat closes up, like my body doesn’t want you to know how perfect you are to me.

Maybe God doesn’t want you to know how wonderful he made your smile to me, how I write poetry about you on lonely friday nights, how I see your face in every ballad of romance and love, how I wish we would dance to those notes.

Maybe we are just not meant to be,

Maybe I am the sun,

And you are the moon,

And God has created us never to cross.