Bad poetry I wrote as a teenager, Volume XII

The Juggler. What can I say about The Juggler? I met him at summer camp when I was 16. He had hair that was shaved underneath. Sometimes in a ponytail. Sometimes in pigtails. Sometimes in a weird knot on top of his head. He painted his toenails many colors, but mostly green and blue. I was smitten with The Juggler, but overcome with shyness whenever I was near him. This is his story, bizarre line breaks and questionable capitalization choices intact.

Stranger

You make me feel like a high
school girl in an '80s movie
I sit by the beach and
watch you play volleyball
And the background song
will probably be on my mind's
soundtrack
Whenever I hear it, I'll think of your
blue-green hair
And the great save you made
And oddly enough, I'll miss you
A wonderful stranger I never
really got to know.

He became less of a stranger later, and more of a boy who I would have a torrid love affair with. Highlights included hand-picked flowers, watching falling stars, making out in a tent, many attempts to dye his hair the right shade of blue and a Deep Blue Something/Jill Sobule concert. He eventually dumped me because I was "too wild."

Here's Volume XI.