You know, girls loving girls makes so much more sense to me. I don't know why. It seems pure somehow. Holy or something. Corny right? But it's true.
I've been working on a poem. I don't usually do that--work on writing. But I'm putting together these phrases into a letter to Girl. Girl is the one I'm waiting for. Now I sound schizo, but oh well.
Is it weird that I kind of like boys but I also feel like a lesbian? There's something nice about the word when I say it out loud. "I'm a lesbian." I'm terribly confused.
It's summertime and the trees are turning. You love the pink against the blue and white. I reach up on tip-toes and break off one of the cotton-candy buds and weave it into my hair. Pink tree, blue sky, white cloud. Pink flower, blue eyes, white-blonde hair. You would smile if you saw it.
I miss you.
Who are you?