As my eyes meet yours,

My heart gives a cheer,

Even though it barely lasts a moment.

It's just a flash of colors,

Not a single number,

The game we play is one of ancient.

I'd have a mind to make a plot,

But gone are all my thoughts,

Except for the ones about you.

What we have is a work of art,

We may never truly have a shot,

But it'll always be a game for two.

What's wrong with me,

I've really no idea of what it could be,

Surely there's something I could do!

How do I stop myself from being so smiley?

You must think me crazy,

Oh, but the one here at blame is you.

Under every look and laugh is there a deeper meaning?

Little words exchanged between us make my heart start screaming,

If only your feelings were the same as mine.

Knowing would at least stop my heart from aching,

Even when I have to see others with all the conversation they're making,

Do you feel the same, or do you regret even reading this first line?

Me and you, have we been reading the clues?

Even so, is this something we'll pursue?

I want to know more beyond the shade of your eyes,

And the sound of your laugh.

I want to know more about the way your hair falls,

And the way that you joke.

I want to know what makes you laugh,

And how to get your shades looking into mine.

I want to know how you make your jokes,

And how to get you to feel for me what your hair does.

So if you got some time to kill,

I will jump in first if you will,

Say that you'll love me despite the chills,

And sit beside me on the windowsill,

Recently, you've been the one thing that's been able to fill,

My overflowing and anguished quill,

When it's usually only full of why I'd die on my hill,

But this has filled me with an unusual kind of thrill,

Lately, my heart hasn't been feeling like such an empty landfill,

Hopefully, this isn't a game of skill.

They say it's enough to be young and in love,

But for now, I'm happy only having one of the above,

'Cause every time I look at you, it's a lovely yet scary kind of rush.

So even if I don't get to see the flying of a dove,

Or if push never comes to shove,

It'll still be enough just to have this crush.

Just thinking of you, I seem to melt,

I wonder daily if I should tell you all the things I've felt,

But in the end, I never tell, for fear you'd think I'm nothing more than a bore.

Just the thought of the possibility hurts more than a welt,

Yes, this is something on which my mind has constantly dwelt,

But the thought that you may like me too makes my smile grow even more.

You sit upon the curb

knees pulled up to chest,

deserted by your herd,

and sitting in their mess.

Your helmet in your hands

like a soldier paying respects

to pink graffiti skateboard wheels and

the last of your mother’s debt.

The pavement lays cold beneath your bones,

you count the hours, count the cost,

each dreaming hour you spent in droves,

a luxury you've since lost.

The traffic rushes by too fast,

each headlight stealing from your name

and in the roar you find at last

the blinding weight of all your shame.

Your fingers trace the concrete scar,

a map of just how far you've flown,

the streetlight dims to amber char,

and still you sit here, all alone.