I.
Today a boy with black hair and hard skin touched my shoulders and hugged me goodbye. He put his one hand into his pocket and looked me in the eyes and rested his other hand on the small of my back. His name is Poison Ivy boy, and I may or may not like him.
II.
Today a beautiful girl with brown eyes and a soft smile teased me for telling a lie and helped me fix my sweater. She didn't flinch when I kissed her, and she kept laughing at everything I said. Her name is Dandelion girl, and I may or may not love her.
III.
Today I came home and cried in the shower and laid down in my bed and wrote a poem. I thought of Poison Ivy boy and I thought of Dandelion girl and I thought of the garden of emotions sprouting at my fingertips. I wrote a poem. I rewrote it. And I rewrote it again.
VI.
I may or may not see them both as flowers. I may or may it be afraid that I'm a weed killer. I may or may not feel Poison Ivy boy itching at my heart with affection. I may or may not feel Dandelion girl sprouting wishes in my soul, and I may or may not be contemplating uprooting my entire garden and starting over, again, and again, and again.
V.
Confession: I am, I am, I am.
