| for instance those boys that pestered me at high school they weren’t particularly atrocious, just should have washed more and cussed less, if i found out one of them was longing for me, was keeping my photos close to his heart, was muttering my name in his sleep, if i found out they pined and sighed and yearned I’d be creeped out At the very least I’d be weirded out if i found out they wrote poetry, I might rethink. Actually—I take it back. |