I've always believed boys were best I started counting first kisses collecting them I’d have enough tickets to buy a brand new stuffed giraffe at the arcade I curled my face loosely over the toilet bowl sobs of empathy and hurt attached themselves to scrambled eggs I find it,,, I find it amusing that body keeps the score
I remember the scent of my brother’s football jersey how my mother washed it every night I’m treated like a man its this mad little crisis I asked boy to borrow his jeans he was mortified why would he ever want to look like me we never spoke about the jeans again maybe we would have if I had to tie a little shoelace around the waistband
I don't wish to be held and whispered to I look inside him speaking to the butler I’ve never had that this thing he spoke about without difficulty was a matter so unfamiliar I tumble in dreams trying to succeed in touch
please touch me touch me,,, if you want … no one wakes up thinking of me it may remain that way for a considerable time I am not looking for a kiss I’m looking to have what the others have a hand held on the subway Could that feel normal to me… ever… ever touch me I’ll cry maybe melt maybe crawl out that I am no one to someone I thought I was this special creation your special creation is there possible room for my belief no ones washing my football jersey.
