M.G.B

Your lips

Look like something I could float on

And when u laugh

That dimple winks at me

As if it knows I’m waiting for it

And if I’m close enough

I can hear your heartbeat

A rhythmic melody

A Smooth and consistent lullaby.

And your hands

Textured and thoughtful

Creeping up my thigh

Just enough to get warm.

I let them stay there long enough

And then I push them to their destination.

So you can explore me in detail

And turn me into a poem.

Titans Hand

I feel myself crumbling

By force

Of a weight that feels like a titans hand

By a burden I’ve given myself

I am atlas.

I watch myself

In the mirror

And there’s questions in my eyes

I am too embarrassed to answer

Even when I’m alone

I’m insincere.

I cry.

A haunting low wail.

Quiet enough to mean something

Not loud enough to share.

I hold my knees as tight as I can

This is how I keep it together.

Winter Ball.

You stop me in the hallway

After first period and tell me that you can’t

take me to winter ball cause I’m too flat chested

That night

I locked my door and cried into the tissue

that I used to stuff my bra.

 

You always hug that girl

who comes to school in heels

so I arched the soles of my feet over the rejection

and the pain wasn’t even worth your attention.

 

“Why is your hair so short?”

So I burned my ears

before I learned to fold them down

To set things straight,

It’s not short,

just curly.

 

But I couldn’t fit it into the ponytail that I could twirl

while you asked me to winter ball.

So in high school

I put glue in my hair

forcing what I wish I was

to be bonded to what I am.

 

I cried because I thought I was dying

My mom told me that’s just my period

So I laughed with my friends about it

as we bonded over woman things and talked about

losing our virginity

at winter ball.