...they say you curse at boys...

in second grade i got in trouble by the busdriver for punching a boy in the stomach so hard he cried. knocked the wind out of him. 5 years later the bus driver was my 7th grade teacher...i don't think she remembered the incident.

this is what i do. i fight boys. i curse boys. i mock boys. i laugh at them, taunt them, hit them, love them. oh, how i love them. but they don't know i love them. i hide behind the jokes and the scornful glances, and pretend i don't care. i watch them watch other girls kiss other girls love other girls. i am their friend, their ally. i do investigations find out the deepest secrets and loves of those they seek. i give them advice over and over about the best way to break my heart. some boys i tell i love you but i don't. not in the way that makes me want to cry. i look at the boys who tear my heart to shreds and i can't say it. i can't say the words that flow so freely for others. if they asked why don't you say you love me i could tell them, because i do. but they never ask.