Sometimes your boyfriend turns to you with a smile
And you’re struck again by one of these little lightning flashes
Between your sweet little faces.
Go on, envisage it.
I am your biggest fan, friend,
And I have plastered the insides of my body with your merchandise
I have my favourite track, your heartbeat
On repeat in my mind,
And the walls of my heart are covered in your posters.
I’m regrettably one of those screaming fangirls,
I cry, I weep,
If you’re asleep I turn the CD on to listen to you breathe,
Over and over again.
This cheesy poem should be your next Number One Hit,
And there’s no other chick
Who’s into your earliest work,
I’d wear you on my t-shirt if you were selling them,
I’d have an arrow on my forehead
Saying “I’m With This Guy!”
I scribble notes like this,
Stuff on my wordpress,
So that people will read and think “What a creepy kid”
Or understand that this poem is about how much
I love to sit next to you in your blues,
Kick the dark streets under a full moon,
Take me to the movies, take me to Paris,
Tell me what’s worth it,
If we were, we’d be Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire
Your eyes are all Sinatra
And they sing it,
They sing pretty tunes and your body’s music
Is what I only want to listen to.
Nobody knows the freckles on your back like I do,
Nobody has the research,
You’re my lost artefact, my forbidden kiss, my history
Nobody knows how running fingers through your hair
Is like running through the waves where the riptide welcomes you like a lover
I am your biggest fan, obsessive is my nature,
I own every album of your kisses, every biography of your secrets,
Every film you’ve stepped in to dance with me,
I learned your choreography,
Picked up similar itches, habits, behaviour,
I can do “The Right Arm/Neck Pinching”
I can do it all,
And there’s nobody else who can.
Sometimes your boyfriend turns to you in tears,
And that lightning flash strikes your boyfriend-poster heart
And all he needs to hear is that you’re his biggest fan, y’know?