i’m not a giggly sixteen-year-old school girl.
i don’t care what your idea of
youth and fun and love is—
i’m not here to play every guy there is
or take every chance i can get.
i’m not here to lead anyone on.
you can still fawn over every sculpted guy
and revel that these attractive young men
will spend some of their time talking to you;
i’m not like that.
i’m not like any of my twenty-year-old peers.
my body my mind and my heart
are all that i have—
and i’m not wasting them on
invasion, impairment, and inanity.
i’m here for more than that.
and honestly, i’m not here to look for anyone;
i just happened to meet somebody,
and my heart my mind and my body
are all giving me clearance to take a risk.
i’ll make myself vulnerable for him
because maybe there’s something here,
maybe we can respect each other for who we are,
and not what anyone else defines us as.
maybe i have faith in a wild dream,
but whether or not i ever see it through,
i don’t need