he told everyone that I was crushing on him
and when I said he's wrong changed it and called me mean
never left me alone, needed my attention
like he was getting off stealing my emotions
I told everyone that I was crushing on him
ashamed of this secret, but never doubted it
why else would I turn red when he bruised my shoulder
and let him steal my scarf like he did to my heart?
he pulled my bag and watched me fall - they say it's love
my jeans are stained with mud my cheeks with tears
but I laugh and forgive; that's how guys tease
falling in love hurts in all of the stories
that's what I've learned to trust, not my own feelings
so each time a boy trips me up - I think it's love
YOU ARE READING
BOYS.
شِعرa short poetry collection about boys maybe with a lesbian twist - looking back on past relationships with boys (& girls), the narrator explores the depth of compulsory heterosexuality and how it manifests itself
