They warned me about crossing streets.
I was taught to look both ways.
To make sure there was no oncoming traffic so I would not get hit by a car because they did not want to see me hurt.
But they never warned me about boys with sweet words and soft hands. They never warned me that words as delicate as feathers that tickle me in the moment can feel like knives later. They never warned me that the oils seeping through the pores on his hands would burn like acid when I think of him at 2 in the morning.
They taught us to look both ways before crossing the street incase a car came out of nowhere, they never taught us to look both ways when it came to boys.
You came out of nowhere and I didn't think to look both ways.
I didn't even think "could this go good or bad?" I just stepped forward and oh boy you left your mark on me.
It was a hit and run.
You came from a blind spot, I never saw you coming, you never even checked to see if I was okay you just sped off.
Some nights I can still hear your voice calling my name, and sometimes I swear I can feel your bumper against my skin.