my first kiss was in a skating rink
with an older boy I barely knew
and my inexperienced tongue
being used to learn a new language.
his kiss made me realize that I might not
be all that straight.
I wasn't ready yet.

my second kiss was in a bathroom at school
my freshman year.
she looked at me as I nervously tried to
kiss her. I wanted it to be perfect, but
I wasn't sure how to do it correctly,
so she stopped me and guided me.
I fell in love with her then.

my third kiss was full of lust.
she and I were both sad for different reasons
and we couldn't stop ourselves.
I was too depressed to care and
God only knows what she wanted to
stop thinking about.
"terrible timing," she said.
I agreed.

my fourth kiss was a boy in a game.
his hands touched all over and I thought
I enjoyed it.
I was wrong.

my fifth kiss was with a girl whom I had been
waiting to kiss for several years.
I snuck her into my house and we talked till
everything went silent and
I knew it was finally time for our
lips to meet.
her lips were soft, and I never properly
thanked her for that kiss.
I was happy.

my sixth kiss was with a boy who stole my heart.
It was on accident, of course.
Not the kiss though, that was completely on purpose.
We technically had two first kisses, I suppose.
The first was in his house and we had
gone upstairs to look at his collection of movies
and then he said something dorky and I said,
"Oh shut up!" And he said, "Make me."
So I did, and I looked at him and I slowly made my
way towards his lips and when our lips met
I had felt something that I had never felt before.
Our second first kiss was in the rain on
the lakefront later that day and
I can't even begin to describe how
kissing him felt in that moment.
It was absolutely beautiful.
He was beautiful.
I was beautiful.
I just wish he'd give me my heart back now,
I miss him and
I am in pain.

To all the people I've kissed before,
I am so sorry.

JUST GIVE ME MY ******* LIFE  **BACK

The silence you clothe yourself in will become a second skin. You will work hard to remove it. You will scrub yourself raw until the sweet scent of orange blossoms replaces the lighter fluid that has seeped into your pores.

When you finally tell someone, you will be drunk. It will be 2 a.m. You will tell your parents, it will spill out of you as you hover over the toilet. Your secrets mixed with ***** and something sour, something burning, something permanent. It will feel good, to flush the pain out of your throat.

It will be hard for you to be intimate. When you talk to that boy in your English class, you will feel butterflies for the first time in months, those same butterflies whose wings were clipped that night last July. You feel the butterflies, yes, but you will cringe when his hand brushes up against your own.

When that same boy asks you out on a date, and he opens the car door for you, you will want to run. You will feel the air in your lungs combust when he kisses you. You will think he is trying to draw blood when he bites your lip.

You will wonder if he can he see the bruises and fingerprints that still stain your nakedness

You will not believe him when he says “I love you”

When he asks why you never want to touch him, why you talk in your sleep, why your chapped lips are a graveyard eroded from the salt streaming down your cheeks, you tell him everything.

You do not cringe when he tries to hold your hand this time.

I GUESS I'M STUCK FOREVER TEXTING YOU AT 12 AM WHILE YOU'RE ASLEEP, HOPING YOU'LL FIND LOVE FOR ME AGAIN SOMEWHERE IN THE BACK OF YOUR DREAMS

IT'S LIKE I WANT TO GO THE **** HOME
BUT *I DON'T KNOW WHERE THAT IS.

AND ALL THE NIGHTS WE SPENT UNDER THE STARS, FOR *NOTHING...

BUT SOMEHOW, I STILL FIND MYSELF THINKING ABOUT YOU, DREAMING ABOUT YOU, WAKING UP IN TEARS. WONDERING IF AND WHEN YOU'LL COME AROUND.
PART OF ME WANTS YOU HERE. CAUSE MY BED FEELS HALF EMPTY, NOT HALF FULL.