Being Lesbian

There was something so different about kissing a woman;

Her lips were softer, hair longer; passions

Are overwhelmingly intertwined, much like

Your bodies were at that moment.

You think about her, and all you see is the

Color red; not because of her toxicity

But because of her love, its rarity made

You crave it all the more, wanting to please her.

But there is also isolation in kissing a woman;

Knowing exactly how it feels is torture, as her

Abandonment leaves you so broken and alone

That you wonder if the last year was worth it.

You approach other women with caution, feeling

A twinge of emptiness in your heart all day. And

Soon she’ll only haunt you at night, as you wake up

Holding some memory in the absence of her body.