I should probably tell you that I'm in love, and that he's in love with me.
And if I told you, I would probably have to explain,
But it's alright with me.
You would tell me that it's not possible,
And that love is a strong word.
But it's not even a word...
It's what an individual feels, right?
Because it's the only thing I've been sure of in a while.
"You're too young and you need to focus on other things," You would say.
But would you even believe me?
You see, He gives me these turns in my stomach like butterflies trying to eat their way through,
He makes my heart twist and turn every time I see him, too.
My words get jumbled and mumbled
And my sentences, tumbled.
He brings out my insecurities just to tell me that he loves them.
This language he speaks kills me,
Because his words are so sweet.
Even when I think about him, my lips shape to form a smile,
And when my hand is in his, I feel as if the world should pause for a while.
Whenever he stares at me, I try to look away,
But my eyes wander into his anyway.
And my face gets like this tomato red color and it feels like I catch fire,
But I think I like it.

Now do you believe me?