My girlfriend is a brunette.

Still feels weird calling her that.
Or him - sometimes she's a he and
that's fine.
She's not a gender to me.
She's a person.
She's my person.

But as I've said before,
carving it out with black on white;
I'm broken inside. I'm broken inside and
I don't know how to
feel.
Am I scared or am I
emotionless?
What is that sinking ache in my stomach?
Would my mom look at me
differently,
blow it out of proportion,
if she knew?

If she knew
I loved the girl next door when I was eight.
If she knew
I drew a picture of our wedding and hid it
because even when I was a kid
I felt like a disgusting disappointment.
If she knew
I kissed a girl in my class when I was in the fourth grade.
If she knew
I've been this person all this time.
I'm not different. I am the same. The same person I was three months ago. Before I had figured this out. Before I had figured me out.

My girlfriend is a brunette
and her sweet-tasting love is
all I've got
spinning around in my head
right now.
It's all I can think about. It's all, it's all I can think about.