Ace

I'm labeled "ace"

not understanding it at all

but only knew that I wanted

nothing more than hugs

behind closed doors.

He wore a yellow shirt

as he ran his fingers

through my short hair.

Frustration wrinkles

on his forehead

confused at my inaction.

"I'm sorry," I said

unable to add more to

my seeming empty apology

as I got lost in his

bright yellow shirt,

his beer belly protruding

as my hands desired to feel it.

Confused, he put his sweater back on,

his yellow shirt gone from view.

Quietly, he walked out of my room

while I sat uncomfortably numb on

the corner of my bed

with just my underwear and

future yellow dejections.