barefeet

as a woman. sometimes you get a bug in your brain.

a little feeling that something isn’t quite right.

I spent the night with you on that hard wood floor, letting you bite my neck, real hard, something reserved for boyfriends and relationships. We weren’t that. You asked me what I wanted, what you could do for me to make me feel good, and I honestly, in that moment I didn’t need anyone or anything else.

All weekend, I watched you feed oranges to my best friend’s daughter, you chased her around that playground and gave her kisses on her forehead.

that’s why, when I pulled up to CVS tonight to buy that little plastic stick, I felt sick to my stomach with the mixture of possibility and fear swirling around in there. It was my first time, after all, buying one, and the thought of it was all too real to imagine. 

that’s why, when that thin blue line appeared. I felt the most relieved I’d ever felt. But also so incredibly sad, because I will never watch you love something as much as you love that little girl. And that would have been a privilege.

Untitled

 

when you said “Baby,

pass me the remote.”

I knew it was

not code for

“I love you”

or

“I want you”

 

Those magazines

lie when they say

there could ever

be any advice for

knowing how a

man’s mind works.

 

I’ve long lost hope

that I, myself

or you, yourself

could even pretend

to have control

of the stars that

align or the paths that

intertwine in our lives.

 

I don’t believe in “true love”

and I don’t believe that

girly magazines

can teach me

how to be a better lover,

or a better person,

or a better woman.

 

But I do believe that

the souls that people

say are destined to meet

sometimes do.

 

And sometimes

no matter the

whisper of future

two people notice

in each other’s eyes,

 

the delicate string

hopelessly aching

to tie their two

hearts together

refuses to knot.

 

-Avery Scott