I’m a cliche
Of course I am
We made eye contact the other day
With this boy
I will not say it
I will not say crush
I will not add fuel to the cliche
But yes eye contact
At least I think it was eye contact
Of course it was eye contact
Ok so I couldn’t clearly see his eyes through his glasses
But still, it was, had to be
I’m a disgusting cliche
Every cringe book scene where I silently scream “get over yourself”
I’m that girl
Oh my goodness I’M THAT GIRL
I can’t even look at him
But I think there’s a name for the kind of shirts he likes to wear
Yes I know everything he wears
I don’t know how because looking in his direction is mortifying
It’s like that deep breath before you jump off a cliff
I have never jumped over a cliff
But somehow I’m sure
When did I become pathetic
Detrimental
I think our names rhyme
Someone please stop me