The girl I pissed off last semester is talking to me -- when I look at her I remember why I liked her in the first place, but I know now that I blew my one chance with her. At least she doesn't hate me anymore -- at least I don't think she hate me.

I could so fall for her -- her poetry, her tiny lisp, her Lennon glasses; her Pre-Raphaelite hair flowing, and her eagle brows -- they all make me want to love her -- alas it's not meant to be, but at least she doesn't hate me.