My Heart Met You Before



I catch you staring.
I guess I’m caught to.
Caught in this moment,
Eyes locked on you.

I wonder if I’m reading too much
Into the way your eyes linger on my face.
Maybe it’s just vanity.
You might be thinking I’m a classic case of insanity.

My heart flutters.
My cheeks flush.
I feel my blood rush.
Oh, I hope I’m not dreaming.

I take one last look across the great divide.
“Thank you for dinner,”
I think with a sigh.
I put on my coat and wave a secret goodbye.
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Submitted on May 01, 2011

Modified on April 24, 2023

27 sec read
6

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABXB XXCC XDDA XXEE
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 460
Words 93
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4

Rachel

I can't write about myself in third person, so let's make this an autobiography.I'm Rachel. I'm a nineteen year old college student. And, well, I'm pretty boring. I'm awkward, and I'm selfish. I'm both too serious and too whimsical. I'm hundreds of conflicts contained in a girl. I've only had one real love and I've been head over heels since I was fourteen (He's too stubborn to leave). Most things I write have a little of him between the lines. I'm trying to find my way through growing up and constantly fighting my instincts to pack up and runaway. I think too much and terrify myself. Life scares me and sometimes I forget to live. Insomnia and feeling lost led me here (it also led me to start blogging: http://growinguplostgirl.blogspot.com/)I'm here to grow so please critique anything and everything I post. The structure of my poems would probably give my old high school English teachers a heart attack. My punctuation, or lack there of, probably wouldn't make them feel any better. I get that people are very protective of their creations, but you can tear mine to shreds, as long as you respect the emotions behind them. Harsh criticism wont make me sob into a pillow, promise. more…

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