Secretly, I thought I was kind of above

other kids. I had the best HitClips collection.

I listened to Britney & wanted to love

 

boys, wrote dragon poems & wore blood

-drip & flame silk shirts baggy to keep erections

a secret. I thought I was kind of above

 

those years. Read The Notebook too young

& broke girls’ hearts in passed-note rejections.

I listened to Britney, to “Can’t Make You Love

 

Me,” & wanted to get the fuck out of

my town. Ran the classroom with deception

& secrets. Thinking I was kind of above

 

them all, I told my homeroom Rachel stuffed

her bra & made her cry in front of everyone.

I listened to Britney & wanted to love

 

myself so badly, stuck a Sharpie up my butt

& hated what I was. Years spent dodging detection

& acting like I thought I was kind of above

listening to Britney. I just wanted to be loved.