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.