her camp pants
and her flowery disposition
topped my bear.
her purple hair
and her compliment of my t-shirt
got my attention
and made me blow up the mall
with racecar enthusiasm,
tour the round.
it's been a while since
a beautiful gal
gave me a smile,
a nod and words.
I found her on the Instagram
an hour later,
fell in love in the parking lot of a T,
on accident on purpose.
from the ankle to the smile,
the choice in music
and the jokes,
it all fit in the package
that use to kickstart my heart
like a motorcycle in the rainyard.
asking for a measure,
I am different these days,
and I don't chase,
and I don't dare anymore,
especially on girls with freckles.
I thought about going back in
and straight up telling her she is stunning,
but then I remembered my age
and how ugly I am,
thinking better of being that kind of creep.
so now, days later, I am just the creep
who follows her on Instagram,
and apparently writes a poem
about her freckled smile in millisecond memory.
oh well, I don't care,
getting old is gross
and losing confidence makes me
want to punch myself in the dick.
oh shit, she followed me back on Instagram;
I hope she doesn't read this,
but then again, I don't care.