The Crush

I glanced away so fast, my iris's probably blurred.
It's that same stupid reaction I have-
Every single time.
But at least there's one thing:
He won't see the color flood my face.
Because as much as I don't want him watching me,
And catching my insecurity,
It hurts not to feel his gaze.

But in truth, I'm dreaming;
He's looking just past me.
Invisibility is a sort of security to me.
Daydreaming, waiting, watching-
Does this constitute as stalking?

Though it's just a fantasy-
The idea of him sitting by me-
I relish in the thoughts.
They overwhelm my mind-that need
That compulsion to reach out,
To touch, to speak;
It's not so easily pushed away...

But, it's a practiced sport
Combined with my cloak of invisibility,
Others might call it a lack of social status,
But I can at least see the plus.
I can ignore these feelings when others look;
Repression is the only way to harbor this crush.

A/N: This is very similar to another poem called Repression. I like this version much better and hope you do too!