Hello Elizabeth
Sometimes I think I loved Her
Why else would it hurt so much?
Why else would my heart drop the way my mother and I did on the Tower of Terror whenever I see the colour orange?
When I think of Florida and fruit trees?
When my mother brings home Cuties and my sister tosses an apricot between her hands as she watches makeup tutorials on her phone?
When I hear any name starting with Georg-
Three more letters and it would be the first time I wrote Her name in five years
Five Years and I can't say Her name
-can't think even those first five letters let alone those final three-
Without my insides twisting up like a piece of hair between your fingers in math class
Twisting across itself and springing back up only to bounce back down and tie itself in a knot
The first sign of the rat's nest of your guts that will soon exist between your addict's fingers
Sometimes I think
-I know-
You'll leave me like that too
YOU ARE READING
Her & her
PuisiAn intimate look into my journey from the perfect Catholic girl with internalized homophobia to a girl who is almost okay with her queer identity. Features poems on my journey of self-discovery and acceptance through my struggles with mental health...
