I want to stop writing about him
But I see him everywhere.
In the eyes of every teen boy
With a bad haircut and
A V-shaped smile,
And big eyes,
And a scruffy chin.
I get the memory of it on my neck,
And his hands on my chest,
And then wandering,
I couldn't write this a month ago,
I'm trying to be okay with it,
I'm trying to not be afraid of it,
I'm trying not to be afraid of him
I avoid him at all costs but
I get to class late and
I can't stop thinking
About the day he looked at me
And he smiled
And I felt special.
And I find myself wishing,
I found myself thinking,
I could have left it all then.