Stuck Between a Rock and a Beautiful Place

I'm stuck between a rock and a beautiful place,
every time I close my eyes I see her beautiful face,
she's like the climber's safety rope on the edge of the cliff,
one pushed me off, and now she's pulling me up.

I'm scared, happy, and sad all at once,
but not as sad as I've been all these cold, lonely months,
and for once I'm sure of something:
I really like this girl, and the primordial fire's been lit.

Every time I see her, the flame grows larger,
but every time I talk to her, my hope gets smaller,
because I'm scared to tell her, afraid of rejection,
meanwhile, my sadness is growing even stronger.

I pray, with desperate pleading force,
that I can ask her out, and we can set forth
into a Promised Land, an infamous bond,
between the girl of my dreams
and a new, inspired me.

Maybe I'm just dreaming, maybe I'm just thinking.
Maybe I'm so lonely, I want it to be true.
And I do, I desperately do.
I'm begging at the headstone makers' door.

Because I don't want to die alone,
I want a family, I want my house to be a home.
Not the lair of a hunchbacked old man,
reminiscing, wishing, breaking, and dying.

It's inconsequentially illustrious,
in a way most industrious.
You see, these feeling build up inside you
until you almost believe they exist.

It's amazing the opportunities and feelings
that can spark from brief eye contact.
Because in that one, beautiful moment, when her eyes met mine...
I was whole, I was me, and I was rooted to the ground.