What would you do,
if I took you  by the hand?
Would you let my fingers
hover over yours?
Tracing patterns in your skin,
sending sensations up
your spine.

What would you do,
if I stole a kiss?
Would you let my lips
Lay on yours?
Blushing,
Sinking into each other,
Sinking into the pillows,
Falling into your arms.




What would you do,
if I said that I felt this way?
Would you draw back in fear?

Everybody knows
That boys want ***.

When a girl won't put out,
everybody knows
that the boy isn't putting it in.

Everybody knows this.
It must be true.
It is unthinkable that anybody should
think otherwise.

Because boys and ***
walk hand in hand.
The new PB and J.
Because boys and ***,
are like the chicken and the egg.
What came first?
wow... what a good one.
Because girls are told
that they should only have ***
When they're ready.
But boys are warned
and are told to wait because
we've a l w a y s wanted it.

Because boys and ***,
they're good ole' pals.
Because there is no way that a boy can't want ***.

Because boys and ***...
Need I explain?

You think they're just whispers,
little voices  in my brain. But,
these phrases go through phases.
Phases that grow with pain.
They start small and grow big,
like the dreams of a kid.
Sleeping,
           slumber,
                      keeping it all under
my skin,
In my flesh,
Through my veins.
They say let it out.
So I do,
But I hide it.
Because it leaves scars.
So I wear long sleeves and scarves.
Cover it up.
No swimming.
Never swimming.
Always drowning,
Drowning in these
thoughts.

Cloudy skies.
Dark sheets.
A smile.
Warmth.
A kiss,
Another.
A reason to exist.
Lover.
Beautiful.
Bright.
Kind and gentle.
Someone to talk to.
Someone to hold on to.
The person I feel most happy with.
Crank up the music,
Dance in our underwear,
Drink red wine,
and call it a night.
Walk around town,
looking up,
at the buildings.
A hand to hold.
Steps to pace.
A shoulder to lean on.
Thrill,
and excitement.
Someone different.
Someone better.
The one.

I suppose none of that matters now.
Cause all you are is
                              gone.

Who knew
  That someone could make
Me
  Feel this way?
A churning in my stomach like before you
Throw up.
Spew.
  You can't help it.
It's not y o u r fault.
But why do you make
  The blood rush to my cheeks?
Warm,
Deep,
Red with feelings that are
  Too difficult to describe.
Too much context.
  Too much explanation.
Otherwise,
I just look the fool.
And,
I can't
Ever get the right words out
   When you're around.
Could I speak my mind?
And let you know how I really feel?
  If I could think straight.

I don't think I've ever felt this way.
Sometimes I thought it,
But I was wrong.

No,
I have never
Felt this way.
Until now.

Who knew
I could hate someone
With all of my heart?