It's all true, and some of it even rhymes rhythmically

I don't know what poetry is, but this is from the heart. If the person it's about sees it, she'll probably think I'm even crazier than she already thinks I am, or crazier than she has made herself believe I am. (Read the rest of this below the poem.)

I love you
Did I ever tell you that I love you?
You think I'm crazy, but I promise it's not true
I would have walked to Oxford, but you told me not to
So I walked across the United States because I didn't know what else to do

Ahem, I said I love you
And then you cut me out of the loop
So I said it again and again and again
And I just couldn't stop saying these things
Like I love you
And I hate you
And I love you
And I hate you
And I love you
(And she loves me not)
Because you wanna know what?
I did and I do
I honestly love you
And that kind of thing just happens sometimes
When you're so full of love, you don't know what to do

It's been eight years since we met, and I've loved you every moment whence
(Did that sh__ actually make some sense?)
I can only imagine how it feels to be loved so true
My heart is not for anyone new
I gave up on love years ago
Except in my dreams when I share it with you

This might be a sh__ty poem
But all it is is my heart in words
So...
You saw the rest of my heart in my eyes
Four years ago in San Francisco
And whether you want me to believe it or not
You most certainly did show me your heart

It said Ryan, I love you...

And maybe that's why I never go

And so began the endless cycle
I just didn't know how to be loved
I don't hate you
Nor do I need your love anymore
But I love you
Yes, I love you
And I'll say it once again, I love you
Just as I have from the moment I met you
Eight years ago on Eleven-Two
At the New York City Pizza Show
But all I ever really wanted was to know you

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Since it didn't fit in the space provided, here's the entire summary:

I don't know what poetry is, but this is from the heart. If the person it's about sees it, she'll probably think I'm even crazier than she already thinks I am, or crazier than she has made herself believe I am. Because you know anyone who actually tells someone he loves her (even though he doesn't know her very well) must be crazy; even though he couldn't help but give himself away from the moment they met, and she didn't seem to mind until about four years later, when she shook the carbonated love bottle vigorously, causing insane love to explode and crash and burn... and burn... and burn.

The End

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