So, this is a type of freeverse poem… kind of. It’s more like poetically-infused prose, because there’s no rhythm or metre to this. If you have trouble understanding what I’m talking about in this thing, that’s okay, poetry is mainly for the poet, and love songs are seldom meant to be comprehended.
Now, without further ado…
The Love Song of Autocorrect
Won’t you please, won’t you please, won’t you please look at me?
Everything I watch escapes your notice. I stare at you until it looks like you feel me, then I turn away just for a second.
It’s so awkward when we make eye contact. You can’t look at the sun, and I can’t look in your eyes.
The backyard is open and the gate is unlocked. I took off my mask so I could feel the wind.
Why is the sky so golden right now, just when I thought night was falling.
I thought you were in my song, but I forgot the lyrics, and I can only sing the tune when you harmonize.
It’s too late to apologize, but I want you to, anyway. The flag is still flying, but it’s not white; no surrender on my watch. I’ll walk on these walls with your shotgun in my hand, waiting for the Swedes to retreat.
How did you get in here? Who let you in? And why aren’t you leaving, no matter what I say to you?
This nonsense hasn’t turned you off, because I’m still running and my battery is not dead yet.
You charge me like a lightning bolt that I can’t look at, ’cause you’re my sun.
It’s not that I love you, and it’s not that I want you. It’s just that you mean so much to me.
The dictionary of my life has an entry a hundred pages long when we get to your name. Everything that defines you is interesting to me.
And I know you have problems. And you don’t really care about me. But I want to be wherever you are, and hear you, and see you. You don’t have to see me; I can be a phantom, never noticed, a complete spectator, if only I can watch you forever.
I’m not worth looking at, I know, but I just want to feel the waves of your presence when I’m near you, and never lose the tingle I feel in my veins when you’re near me.
Like it? Got questions about it or my sanity? Comment below, and go ahead – ask me about my strange taste. 😜 I promise I’ll give you a real poem tomorrow. 😉