I stare at your picture,
And wonder.
“Why are you with me?
How can this be true?
How can you love me?
Are you crazy?
Are you nuts?
I’m not your type.
I’m out of your league.”
You are preppy.
And I am punk.
I wonder how you could like me.
And love me like you say.
I wonder too much.
I might just wonder away.
Keep me on a leash.
Keep me on that collar.
I miss you anyway.
So don’t even bother.
But are you nuts like I think?
What makes you want me?
What makes me want you?
What is there left to think?

 
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