When I was in kindergarten
There was a boy that pulled my hair
And took my juice boxes
I told my parents
And I’ll never forget
The way they looked at each other, knowingly
My mother smiles and says,
“Oh, he probably likes you”
Sixth Grade and I’m in math
The boy behind me
has told all of his friends,
To tell me,
That he likes me and he’d like to go “out”,
But he’s only ever ask me if I was a lesbian
I told him I didn’t know what a lesbian was
He said than I must be then
I tell my parents
And again, they shared a knowing look,
Only this time, my dad says,
“He probably doesn’t know what they are either.
He just knew you were smart and thought you would know.
Oh, he probably just likes you, don’t worry about it.”
Ninth Grade and I’m in high school
And boys who aren’t boys anymore,
Tell me I’m the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen
And they want to hang out, just the two of us
Tenth grade and I’m on my back on a couch
His hands are up my shirt
And I don’t know what they’re doing there
He says it’s okay, he’s done this before
We’ve only known each other for a few months,
But I thought that if I told him that I liked him back,
That he would stop calling me names
And pushing me around
He’s pulling at my pants
And I start to sit up
I say, “Let’s just finish the movie”
I don’t want to finish the movie, I want to go home
He sits up too and says,
“I really like you. I thought you liked me too, but I guess I was wrong.”
I remind myself that he does like me
Even though he teases me sometimes,
I know that he doesn’t really mean it,
And he always says sorry
And besides, who kisses someone who they don’t really like?
I lay back and his hands are at my pants again
Eleventh Grade and I’m a *****
Everyone hates me
Even the teachers look at me
Some with pity,
But most, with disgust
Apparently, I slept with half of the football team,
Some at the same time
I don’t deny it
What’s the point, I think,
Regardless of what I say,
That’s how and what they’ll continue to think about me
Twelfth grade and I’m the suicidal ****
When you down a bottle of sleeping pills
And chase it with a bottle of *****
People think you’re a suicidal freak
When your parents use the gps in your phone,
To find you in a sketchy hotel room,
They call for help,
Unbeknownst that they’re not really helping their daughter
They’re only prolonging another attempt
When waking up from getting your stomach pumped,
Your mother is crying and your dad is pale and shaking
They ask, “Why’d you try to leave us?”
After a few attempts to speak around the hoarseness in my voice,
I reply, groggy and unaware of who is who,
“I thought that since he was mean to me, it meant he liked me.
He said he liked me.”
This time instead of looking knowingly at each other,
My dad looks down so I won’t see
His lips quiver and the tears roll down his cheeks
And my mom tries to smile sadly, but her tears win,
And pour out of her eyes and she sobs loudly into her hands
I realize my biggest mistake of all,
When I hear my dad’s quick intake of breaths as he sobs
And when I see my mom run out of the room
The things that they don’t teach you in school
Are that when a boy pulls your hair or takes your juice boxes
Or calls you mean names, but tells you that he likes you
It may mean that he likes you,
But what they didn’t teach me to understand,
Was that
Those aren’t the boys who you should
Ever
Like back
-{ksf}
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
When I was in kindergarten
There was a boy that pulled my hair
And took my juice boxes
I told my parents
And I’ll never forget
The way they looked at each other, knowingly
My mother smiles and says,
“Oh, he probably likes you”
Sixth Grade and I’m in math
The boy behind me
has told all of his friends,
To tell me,
That he likes me and he’d like to go “out”,
But he’s only ever ask me if I was a lesbian
I told him I didn’t know what a lesbian was
He said than I must be then
I tell my parents
And again, they shared a knowing look,
Only this time, my dad says,
“He probably doesn’t know what they are either.
He just knew you were smart and thought you would know.
Oh, he probably just likes you, don’t worry about it.”
Ninth Grade and I’m in high school
And boys who aren’t boys anymore,
Tell me I’m the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen
And they want to hang out, just the two of us
Tenth grade and I’m on my back on a couch
His hands are up my shirt
And I don’t know what they’re doing there
He says it’s okay, he’s done this before
We’ve only known each other for a few months,
But I thought that if I told him that I liked him back,
That he would stop calling me names
And pushing me around
He’s pulling at my pants
And I start to sit up
I say, “Let’s just finish the movie”
I don’t want to finish the movie, I want to go home
He sits up too and says,
“I really like you. I thought you liked me too, but I guess I was wrong.”
I remind myself that he does like me
Even though he teases me sometimes,
I know that he doesn’t really mean it,
And he always says sorry
And besides, who kisses someone who they don’t really like?
I lay back and his hands are at my pants again
Eleventh Grade and I’m a *****
Everyone hates me
Even the teachers look at me
Some with pity,
But most, with disgust
Apparently, I slept with half of the football team,
Some at the same time
I don’t deny it
What’s the point, I think,
Regardless of what I say,
That’s how and what they’ll continue to think about me
Twelfth grade and I’m the suicidal ****
When you down a bottle of sleeping pills
And chase it with a bottle of *****
People think you’re a suicidal freak
When your parents use the gps in your phone,
To find you in a sketchy hotel room,
They call for help,
Unbeknownst that they’re not really helping their daughter
They’re only prolonging another attempt
When waking up from getting your stomach pumped,
Your mother is crying and your dad is pale and shaking
They ask, “Why’d you try to leave us?”
After a few attempts to speak around the hoarseness in my voice,
I reply, groggy and unaware of who is who,
“I thought that since he was mean to me, it meant he liked me.
He said he liked me.”
This time instead of looking knowingly at each other,
My dad looks down so I won’t see
His lips quiver and the tears roll down his cheeks
And my mom tries to smile sadly, but her tears win,
And pour out of her eyes and she sobs loudly into her hands
I realize my biggest mistake of all,
When I hear my dad’s quick intake of breaths as he sobs
And when I see my mom run out of the room
The things that they don’t teach you in school
Are that when a boy pulls your hair or takes your juice boxes
Or calls you mean names, but tells you that he likes you
It may mean that he likes you,
But what they didn’t teach me to understand,
Was that
Those aren’t the boys who you should
Ever
Like back
-{ksf}
