Christopher
I’m the guy
who stands too straight,
who can’t seem to get the hang
of hanging loose.
My body won’t let go,
it wants to be rigid
because so much anxiety
is making it hard
to lighten up
and untighten up
enough to stop
looking
like a jerk
when Annabelle’s around.
Just the sight of her
clenches my jaw
hardens my hands
turns me to granite,
even though inside
my thoughts of her
are soft
and tender
and warm.
When she walks by,
I’m a stone statue
standing stiff
as a guard
at Buckingham Palace,
While inside
I’m reaching
beseeching
her to see
Past this rock face
to the funny guy
I know I can be
and would be
if I could learn
the key
to feeling at ease
when Annabelle sees me.