Poem: To All The Shy Girls

This whole Tinder thing lately has really got me flustered. In case you were wondering, I never again heard from The Lad, even after bucking up and messaging him. Ah, c’est la vie. But still, the whole process of setting out, deliberately, with intentions admitted, to find someone romantically feels rather bizarre to me. You’re essentially just shooting in the dark, hoping that the right person for you will come into your orbit by the most unlikely, randomest of odds. Instead, I’d always imagined that one day I’d simply stumble into the right person, and he’d catch on pretty quickly that there was something between us, and we’d just figure out things from there.
But what people have kept telling me, all with nothing but affection for me and the best of intentions, is that love will never work like that. You have to put yourself out there, take risks, get outside your comfort zone. You have to do the work, or you’ll never find anyone. That’s why I need to give dating a try, even if it’s scary and uncomfortable for me.
But here’s the thing–I’m just not wired that way. I’ve always thought that it was because I’m just too shy, but at the same time, I’m not really actually that shy. It’s always strange to me, this weird state I get in when I imagine actually dating a guy. So I did some thinking, and when I finished thinking, I did some writing. And I have concluded that, with all due respect to anyone who prefers other methods, I think that I’m just going to wait until I find the guy who feels like he’s worth the risk.

To All The Shy Girls

I used to think
that I was shy
that the reason
I couldn’t meet a boy’s eye
was an excess of embarrassment

And when I got
my first kiss
I chattered nervously
against his lips
and the second time
I giggled
helpless

Then one year passed
and then two
where I dreamed of
realer kisses
more than just a few
presses of lips

But again I couldn’t
meet their eyes
without a sudden tide
of bashful, red-cheeked stammering
to their amusement

How come when I
felt a blow
a fluttering clench in my chest
at the way his lips quirked
or his hair would rest
just so
on his cheek
and it seemed as though
he might feel the same for me

I was always gripped with a rush of panic
fathoms, oceans, miles deep
I believed it could only be
this overwhelming
overbearing
over-awkwardness
in me

Yet lately
I have come to think
that I am not shy because
I don’t want to be seen
No, I shy away
from men who never seemed
good enough to look upon
all that I have dreamed

I do not fear I’ve nothing to give
I look away, embarrassed
for they should fear me instead
I laugh nervously
for them
because they don’t know just how
lucky they would be
to press their lips to mine
as I’m giggling

So if someone looks away
when you don’t
meet their gaze
and cannot divine the crackle
of power
in your stuttered lines
know you have managed
successfully
to hide your riches
from lesser beings

You are a goddess
hidden in plain sight
wait for the one
who looks on your downturned head
and can recognize
your might

 

Poem: How You Know

So I’m still feeling depressed and lost over my sweet baby Boo, and I don’t feel like trying to laugh and be funny. So I’m just going to throw an old poem your way that is appropriately angsty. Also, there is profanity, so proceed with caution.

How You Know

Is this what falling in love is like?
Joy distilled naturally to its purest form
The searing expansion of warmth
that makes your chest feel like it will imminently explode
Like you get when you finish a damn good book
A chronic contraction at the corners of your mouth
That leaves your lips twitching constantly
Especially when you stand there stupidly unaware of it
Is this what falling in love feels like?
The repetitive, horrifying plunge
Over and over and over and over and over and over
Where you go stumbling and plummeting off every cliff you find
Yet the laws of gravity and nature itself don’t seem to apply to him
And he goes strolling casually along right above
The heels over your head
So he is walking on water and can’t seem to do any wrong
Permanent enough to let you regain your feet
Oh god, is this what falling in unrequited love is like?
Eternally off-balance because
Something isn’t right inside your head
And you go tumbling into sporadic pitfalls
Of his eyes and his laugh and his voice and his hands
And the goddamn way his path is paved perfectly smooth and
He never falls into you
I’ve told myself yes and I’ve told myself no
And forced myself to let him go
But he’ll never just go
Is that how you know?
This isn’t a damn good book someone has already penned
There’s no definitive, answered end
But, oh god, I’m afraid that’s how you know