The creation of love begins with a crush.

Isn't that funny?

Description enough.

Yet we dive head first,

Expecting heart ache and pain.

But eh, who cares?

It's high school anyway.

Then before you know it,

Months have gone by.

Realizing now,

You let him cross a line.

Not sure where.

Not sure when.

All you know,

Is you let him in.



What about when?

It was all great..

Until the "crush" came back in.

Now in private,


Missing the smiles...

Wallowing alone,

Like a little lost child.

Love had been created,

With a new found low to follow.

This is what I expected...


Why'd I have to be right?


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