I found a crappy drawing of you yesterday,
That I must've drawn when I was much younger.
The paper's worn from eraser rubbing
'Cause I could never quite capture that fantastic grin,
Or the shine in your eyes
That never met mine
(Or ever even knew I existed).
I couldn't draw ears that weren't ridiculous,
But yours must have heard about a weird girl in your class
Who probably (Ew!) liked perfect you.
I found a love letter, an adorable poem,
That was a bit wordy for my age,
But for you, nothing was too meticulous
I never had the guts to hand it to my crush,
'Cause I could never quite capture the feeling
But I'd daydream of it sometimes,
Hoping that you'd realize... something (?).
The memory of you flies up with the sparks,
Burns with my diary,
Warms my hands,
At least in the end you were good for one thing.