scene 1: science class
you're the one that taught me how certain chemicals just make something wonderful, like how testosterone and estrogen make love. you weren't just my lab partner, you were blowing readytobeused apologies out of the atmosphere. that's when i realized that the idea of you loving me really is out of this world.
scene 2: lunchroom
you're hot peas sliding off my plate and chocolate milk slipping down throats gasping for breath in oceans of pretty words. i see you fill your mouth too full like you always have. you have too much on your plate, but i can't ask you to take anything off because i know what would be first to go.
scene 3: bus
i can't say it's easy to sit next to a boy who knows everything about me but doesn't remember any of it. i wish the bus would lift off the ground so that i would feel weightless, like i were flying. like we were flying together, ready to get married and have beautiful babies with green eyes. i can't say it's easy to slow down this vehicle moving full speed down the road of two teenagers forgetting how to hate.
scene 4: home
it's quiet. we aren't speaking. we aren't unfiltered. we aren't decorating wedding cakes or making beautiful babies. the only beautiful things we can make are puddles of water and bleeding lips.
scene 5: empty bed
he says he's used enough of his testosterone on me. the only thing i can make is bloody tampons and ringless fingers.
scene 6: nowhere
i don't know where i am and what i'm supposed to do without the other half of my solution.
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is the tampons thing too suggestive for this forum? i can't tell. you tell me.