Thinking

Note: Alright, so this is one of those poems again -hastily written, with poor diction and meaning (at least, intended)-. However, I have been literally feeling butterflies in my stomach all afternoon, and do desperately need to get it out of my system. I repeat, it is of low quality, but I CANNOT HOLD IT IN.

Thinking

I cannot stop

Thinking

About you

My heart

Is fluttering

Like a bumble bee

Each thought

A chirp

Of fire-red Robins

And, know,

It aches me

That while I think

Of you

You are not at all

Thinking of me

[GM]

*The image is uncanonical testament of my unattainable fondness for somebody, for the Robin chirp, or the bumble bee buzz inside my heart. A vainly symbolic metaphor, if not a euphemism, for what I dare not speak but only hint at. It depicts the Badlands National Park, US.