Poetry Journal

Lesbian Love Letters.

Friend : So, let's say a girl likes you, and she tells you she likes you, what does that mean?

Lesbians : I get a friend?

Friend : *facepalms*

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On with the trashy poetry!

A mind maze, that's what it's like when you fall in love with the wrong person.

Like a fashion craze that dies down after a few months.

Or should have anyways.

It's something that is meant to go away, but lives on in your heart creating brain trains that run over all your mental processes.

Creating crossroads of beliefs.

Her eyes sparkled, a dark brown being paraded.

My heart pounded out of my body.

Her hair slightly flopped over sloppily on one side of her head.

I remember the exact words she said.

Leading me on a new trail of lies.

Maybe I acted too late, or talked to much.

Maybe she didn't like me clinging to her like a kindergartner to their mother.

Perhaps I was very jumped, too much so for her to like.

Maybe it was my heart-

The one that explodes every time I hear her words.

The one that shatters when she's upset with me.

Broken glasses, broken dreams, troubled with nightmares, quite ubseen.

Salty tears, ocean waves, shaking hands, cold embrace.

Pen on paper, hand on heart, scribbling letters- it was a start.

But not all starts lead to success.

I was not an all-star in the end.

I was still just me with the eyes like broken Christmas lights, the hair like golden thread, and the heart twenty times larger than my head.

So perhaps it was my heart that was wrong all along, or maybe, it was the fact that my heart chose you.

But to that I must be true.

To you I will be loyal, even when I don't belong, my head knows it's wrong.

But this is where I want to be.

So please, stop saying there is something volatile about me.

- Ariah Christman