Popcorn

Life is made of firsts and lasts. 

Your first breath,

When your parents hold you close.

Your first steps, 

When you can wander around alone.

Your first words, 

For anyone who's been thinking about Valentine's day, or not, I just wish so much that for once I could get someone to like me back. But then do I? It's fine to be single and I'm fine being single, but I hate being called single.

My fingers weave my hair into a braid

Twisting in the experiences I’ve faced:

The “girliness” insults

That say I’m not delicate enough,

The jokes about how I look,

The sun sets past the moon.

The moon rises past the sun.

The same thing, spoken differently.

I love you.

You are my heart.

Both convey a deep care…or so they should.

I write,

words appearing.

I write,

meaning endearing.

I write,

hope nearing.

I write,

not fearing.

I write,

I write,

I write.