My Love. Poem by Lulu Muffin

why is it always that when you feel for someone
when you write there name down
on that crumpled piece of paper
that it makes you happy inside; joyful
you write them these anonymous letters
telling them how you feel
the words tying together,
the syllabels are perfect.
you make up these false conversations in your head
of what you wish he would say to you
it makes you happy
he calls you his queen
he is your king.