Clean-Up on Aisle 3

You're the only person that can make my insides smile. Tingle and knot. Turn me into a giggling 5 year old again. Only you have the power to force my hand to turn this raw emotion into polished stanzas. Make me brave enough to give the world a backstage pass into my thoughts.

I used to laugh at those girls. You know. The one's that seem to move their fingers at lightning speed across their keyboards. Ending yet another text message with a cutesy emoticons. Trying desperately to gain approval of the opposite sex(or maybe the same). Now I'm the one frantically scribbling Mr. and Mrs. in my notebooks.

Pages devoted to your smile. Chapters to your eyes. Those glowing windows that seem to light up even when no one's home. Too busy daydreaming about life, and things too deep for me to even attempt to comprehend. Caught up in just appreciating life and the world. I can always tell with you because whenever we rejoice in the pleasure of just being alive your eyes sparkle like bulbs on a Christmas tree.

I squirm in my seat just waiting for the bell to ring so I can cheerfully say hello and see that big grin spread across your face like an infection. I swear you could start a pandemic with it. It's a struggle for me to even maintain eye contact because I feel like my heart will send you a secret message and I'll no longer be able to pretend these feelings are "all in my head".

I have good reason to assume this. My mind and heart seem have been in a civil war for quite some time. Keeping me in a constant tug of war, and both of my arms are soon to break off completely. Heart shouting to just jump. Let my emotions flow out like an undamned river. Mind telling me I'm lucky to have you at all. Both valid points. But I won't be able to go through another encounter without exploding with desire. I'm hoping you don't push me away, but I'm getting ready for this shit to hit the fan. Prepare for one hell of a clean-up.