Poetry
A poem I wrote mid-August about queer fluidity and the implications of being a queer woman who dates men.
i think i forgot how to be me guess that’s what happens when a boy is happy sticky fingers stuck to my keys but i guess i’ll just take another knee i’m scared of everyone who i could be excited for who ill never achieve i want to love a girl but i think im too done but i want my mind to fill with mud want my thighs wrapped around her waist and some could say it’s lust but being with me is like picking up dust gotta pack up all your shit make it seem nice when it’s time to pit empty out the intestines turn my baggage to empty and watch what happens
and when she pops up in my feed i think goddamn that girls for me but im too fucked up for something stable and i keep letting boys win in my fable i’ve never stopped writing a day in my life no one can keep up to how i want to be alive i feel like i’m fleeting a moment in time but everyone tells me it’s like waiting in line i’m never quite good to anyone who arrives i want people to sit and observe my cries
i can’t handle not being the center of it all i wish i could deny my need to not be small an oldest kid in the youngest body i stay and i lose it then scream like it’s my hobby i use the needle and i climb to the top but i miss the city and the way it pulls me taut my hours are filled obsessing with him but god i hate boys i wanna act on a whim spontaneity god i want her that girl sticks in my hair god i want her but im insane im crazy a film bro in a hot body i know im not made for anybody’s taste and i miss everytime someone missed my face i miss me, i do i wonder if i’ll realize it’s not you i wonder if she’ll realize too
