I read about you

in my horoscopes and in a relatable tweet last week

as soon as I saw you, I knew those were written about you

and and and on Tuesday, I saw chocolate vanilla swirl ice cream

          and I thought maybe we could blend together that well

or maybe you’ll see that, one day,

          we could be perfectly misunderstood like frozen yogurt dates

          in December like getting married to someone

          you met on tinder like falling in love with your

          issued public defender like

the way you’re stained on my eyes

          like when you leave the TV

          on the same paused screen

          all night long

          and then your mom yells at you

          because you should’ve

          turned that off a long time ago

and and sometimes I see you around

          but I don’t say anything

          kind of like waiting for the guy

          to text first

          because it’d be silly

          to start a conversation

          even though I really want to start a conversation

          because Cosmo magazine says

          that’s the way to get a boyfriend

but there wasn’t a column about how long you should wait…

I’m assuming you shouldn’t wait too long

          because bad bitches don’t wait

          for men who ain’t shit right?

but what’s the right balance of bad bitch

          and quiet observant girl and cute Cosmo magazine girl?

someone told me to just be myself and I always do what I’m told because

           that’s what the women do in his story books and everything I learn in school should be correct, correct?

but I don’t really wanna be myself this time because it seems like you don’t like me

          so I’ll just change myself so that maybe you will

I mean you clearly must’ve liked me at some point because the night we met you couldn’t keep your hands off of me

it was like you .. hypnotized me

your heartbeat like a metronome

your voice like a therapist

and your eyes: encapsulating

you see, every night I fall asleep and I go to you. I see your face on the backs of my eyelids every time they close

          and I see your face every time I almost crash my car. I feel you in my hands as I write this poem

          and I can’t shake you from my brain but I wish someone would shake me because,

          until I see you again, I will never not see you.