Your voice trembles . you speak to her sometimes, so you lather it in sugar-sweetness and confusion, and pray she won't notice.

Your eyes dance with wonder when she performs, you're astounded by the fervor she injects into each lyric, the fluency in each sentence.

You're positive she captures your eyes sometimes, just observing her, it makes your breath hitch in your throat because she'll arch an eyebrow questioningly, and you think you're watching her just a little too intently.

But she's Tori;

and Tori's hair bounces when she walks,

And Tori's eyes glimmer like stars when she speaks,

and Tori's oh-so gorgeous body sways achingly to the beat,

and Tori likes boys (but maybe one day she'll see past their false smiles)

and Tori thinks of you as 'immature' and 'childish' (she'd never say it aloud but you can tell)

and Tori just wants to be friends (the simple word batters your mind beyond clarity)

and you can only blame yourself for becoming so enraptured with her infectious charm.

Besides, its not her fault she makes your ricochet off your chest swifter than a hummingbird's wings.