I’m not good with linear thought; all of my logical sense jumped ship the second I saw your face.
I don’t know why I love you, I just do.
You’re the type that acts tough, in your ripped jeans, with your bleach-damaged hair, nicotine source in hand.
We both know you’re a good boy.
You’re an honor student. You pay your bills. Stop trying to act like you’re different.
We get high off laughter and the scent of midnight.
Delirium breaks forth from my post-work shit-show, and you’re there for it all.
You play with your hair when you’re nervous.
You can’t sit still. You stand up when you’re excited.
You always put weird things on your head.
Your shyness lights up my mesolimbic pathway like a cigarette to gasoline.
We get high off each other and future dreams.
You know that I’m smart, you compliment my brain. “Fuck pretty,” I said, “I’m brilliant.” And you listened.
I’m not a fool to you, no. Just a fool for you.
Aly Gerdes is a graduate student at San Jose State University studying to be a teacher. Currently, she enjoys her time substitute teaching and nannying. During undergraduate studies at Sonoma State University, Aly served as a junior editor and an interim web director for the REVIVAL Zine. In addition to being the author of her self-published poetry collection, Open Letter, Aly has work published or forthcoming in Anti-Heroin Chic, The Flux, ZAUM, and Poet’s Choice.