I love you.

I love you.

"I like you so much"

I said.

My heart was still pounding 

At the prospect of saying what I really meant.

He knew what I really meant.

 

It had been

One month.

Two months.

Four months.

Nine months

And yet I wondered

If a love this strong 

Should always have to hide.

Should a love this strong

Always hurt?

Must I always rely on the fact that

A boy.

Is a boy.

Is a boy.

And a girl will always get her way

Using her body

As a toy.

 

Sometimes I catch my hand trailing 

The indent of his spine

With my fingertips.

And I wonder

Did I give him too much affection?

Too much of what he wanted?

Because of course

A boy.

Is a boy.

Is a boy.

And who is a boy without a chase

Or a girl to destroy.

 

It's the notion of him leaving

That makes me

Surrender my power 

Because what would I do

Without the comfort?

Comfort?

Comfort?

Because what would I do

Without the anticipation

Of comfort.

Without the possibility

Of being happy

One day.

 

So I stay

Because I love the smell of his skin

And being held for a moment

Even when it isn't genuine

And even though

He'll never love me

I know that

A boy. 

Is a boy. 

Is a boy.

And as long as I love him

I will be filled wih miserable joy.