the other girls do strange things,
but they don’t mean it.
i can explain.

it's infuriating,
like the way my laptop won’t scroll.
i can’t read the comment section.

but it also kind of feels like the intro to a song
-the first flute, the first voice, the first breath of air.
the beginning of a story.

when you add that first swab of lipstick,
it has a voice like my crush:
sweetheart, you’re gonna be beautiful.

because sweetheart,
you are so much more than beautiful.

strange -i’ve never used the word sweetheart.
but it fits, because never have i ever,
never have i ever fallen.

i swear i didn’t plan this,
but i’ll dance to this music i’ve made.
it’s great music.

offbeat though, isn’t it?
because i think i’m dancing to another beat,
and wondering if you can do it too.

the other girls, they think you can’t dance,
but they don’t know anything about us.

honestly, you’re the only one of those girls,
the only one that exists.
i wish the others knew i was here for you.