A Poet After My Own Heart

Words formed into such beauty Can so easily take my breath away Can so easily sweep me off my feet Can take this heart, break or make it, and bewitch this mind I'm falling apart to synthetic verse across a digital screen A poet after my own heart What I search, what I crave, what I may have found Knees buckling, teeth chattering Heart melting like a waxed candel So easily swept away with the tide of rythmic word I pour my heart out To this poet after my own heart Hiding my real self from everyone else Decrypting my form for no one else For this poet after my own heart to understand- maybe see Decrypting him I find myself reflected in him. Leaving myself out in the open For him to take or leave Still showing this heart in my wrist to no one, only informing the poet of it Amazed, and lulled to serenity by this poet I'm quite infactuated and he does not even know it I'm a simple stalker with her eye on a target Aiming to hit, shooting to miss Bone crushing lust for a poet after my own heart Lust, love Love, lust What's the difference at this age? Dependant on the poet, quiet around him Lulled into silence by his presceence, put to shyness Fighting down rolling waves of insecurity in the ocean of my gut Watching him, stalking him playfully Gives me the zest Hiding and trying to avoid from being seen- to avoid his dissapointment At such a homley form- nothing special, nothing beautiful, nothing divine Just simply sam, standing before him, before you Simpley Sam, the simple stalker I've found you, you've seen me. Which direction now? I would sew my lips shut before I ever uttered a word Of this poem, of my heart, of my feelings Because I simply cannot take one more let down