It's different this time
Waiting at the bus stop
Our noses red from the cold
"do you love me?"
I shake my head no
But my eyes probably tell a different story
That every time she looks at me my heart explodes
We sit silently until the bus arrives
I drop my money in the fare box and rushed to the backseat
She is next to me
Sitting closer than ever
We sit in silence as I stare out the window
Neon signs pass us by
Lighting the bus and her face
She turns to me and brushes my hair behind my ear
"let me see your eyes"
She looks at me and grins
I placed my hand on her lap
Tracing a heart with my fingers on her thigh
She pulled me in for a kiss
Her lips as soft as her skin
She pulled away and asked
"do you love me?"
I look at her and sigh
My heart racing
I pull her in and kiss her
Then I whispered
"I do"
YOU ARE READING
gas station flowers
Poetrycoming of age poetry by a queer young adult writer. navigating relationships and the coming out process. peak inside the mind of a young woman with a mental illness.
