with her, it’s like art.
it’s wanting to know
every single detail about her
down to what she tastes like,
down to what she sounds like
when she’s begging.
down to her dirty little secrets.
down to the parts of herself
one can only uncover beneath the
sheets.
a 19-year-old virgin,
i am broken because
the cover of ‘Cosmo’ says
“20 tips for the best sex ever"
and instead of it sparking
curiosity, i cringe.a 19-year-old something–
something that i’m not quite
sure of yet–
i am broken because i am the only one
in my group of friends
who hasn’t given a blow job,
i am the only one who doesn’t understand
what ‘horny’ feels like.a 19-year-old something:
something i am growing to hate and
to be embarrassed of
i am broken because the words
on the magazines don’t talk about
soul mates or "20 tips for the best
heart-to-heart 3-am pillow fort
conversations with your partner
ever."
instead of wanting what is sold,
i am longing for something that doesn’t
seem to exist.a 19-year-old someone
who has learned that
words can steal the roof off your home
and leave you
exposed
i am broken because
they can pull you apart,
they can dissect you and stick you
under a microscope,
they can make you feel less than
whole.a 20-year old demisexual,
i am learning
i am not broken because
ten letters can be the foundation
of a home, a family,
to knowing you are not
alone.
ten letters can help you
find yourself.
Silenticel 