I see his eyes wherever I go.
Those beautiful, soft brown eyes which I love, and he hates.
I hear his laugh in my mind and sometimes it’s so real,
That I feel as if he’s standing right beside me.
I see his face whenever I close my eyes,
And it seems as if there is no escaping.
He shows up everywhere.
I turn, and there he is.
Smiling that cute smile of his, with those dimples in his cheeks.
Oh, how I fall for those dimples.
He runs his hand through his hair, making it even more messed up than it is,
And somehow it looks even better.
He’s wearing brown pants and a red sweater.
And though it shouldn’t work, on him it does.
But then I blink, and he’s gone.
Was I dreaming?
He’s still there.
He’s just not mine.