Hopeless romantic

why do I feel he reads 

these secret pages 

of my mind sometimes

I may not say it aloud

but I feel his presence

leaving a trace once in a while

I think I'm just too 

intoxicated in his love 

to see him everywhere

with each passing day 

he's growing on me 

I'm not sure if he is aware

although I know that the moon 

of my earth won't go anywhere 

but once broken, usually fragile

my little heart is always scared

bad poetry, poor rhymes, I've become 

a hopeless romantic, please bear