I look for love
I look for love in dusty corners,
in fingertips that barely brush against me.
I’m wary, I like to think I left this naïve girl behind
on a hard wood schoolchair in an empty classroom,
but I fall in love easily
not with people, not anymore,
with ideas of love left untouched
on shelfs too high to reach,
so I carry a ladder with me
everywhere I go.
But even with this hiding behind walls
I’m shy, and I won’t ask
for love, for time, for anything at all
until my inside’s begin to ache
and I have to scream with a hoarse voice
to the people that are standing the closest.
Most days, though, it’s only lingering looks
for people who don’t know me,
boys with soft voices, girls with sparkling eyes,
and I like to imagine that I’m tough,
but if you’d hold me in your arms for a second too long
I’d melt into pudding and tears,
because of how starved