You.

I think you are beautiful.
I think you are cute.
I think you are sweet.
I think you are kind.
I know you are hurt.
I know you don't like me.
I know I miss you.
I know I want you.
And I know I would treat you right.
How I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me.
Its like a book elegantly bound but in a language that you can't read, just yet.