I get “writers block” when I think about you. My heart stops beating when I say your name but, when it does beat; It feels like a marching band beating out my rib cage. My cheeks swell with anxiety and stick out like red lipstick. My voice cracks like fire crackers. Oh-oh, how I wish I could look at you, look straight at you but, I can’t. I physically can’t. But, when I do, I imagine myself caressed deep inside your chest. I imagine how my love for you is so new, so young. My love is so. So, silent. I can’t love you but, I do. I shouldn’t love you. I shouldn’t love you when its not you I go to bed with at night but, I long it now. I count every day off as a day of mourning. I watch the clock count down as if it’s counting down to my own ending. I wait for what seems to be years to see you. When you text me goodnight I feel anxious and empty. Anxious because, I know if I text you, you’ll know I like you. Empty because, I want you to know but, you can’t. Hiding is all I can do. My bed feels empty even though it’s full. I want it empty. I want it empty so you can fill it but, you can’t. I love you but, I can’t!