Crush

I learned the word at summer camp
“Who do you have a crush on?”
“She totally has a crush on him!”

Exciting, tasty and adult
This new emotional word
Swirled around my tongue
And crunched between my teeth.

It used to be
like him
Now it sounded stronger
More determined
I tasted it
I have a crush on him.

It was better.
It conjured images of
Shells beneath my toes
Cracking and fragile.

Crush is an action.
It is a burst of temporary energy.
It does not last.
It ends.

I am 13 and learning the word.
It feels new and delicious.
It feels small and insufficient.

I am 13 and writing his name over and over and over and over
Attempting to exorcize him from my mind
I am 13 and noticing the colour of his eyes
Like I’ve never noticed the colour of eyes before.

I am 13 and I use the word crush because it’s not like
It is stronger and I feel bolder.
I am 13 and I know it is not love.

I am 28
And I use the word crush because it’s not like
And I use the word crush because it’s not love.
It has aged with me and changed
It is softer and I am less bold.

I am 28 and noticing the colour of his eyes
Like I’ve never noticed the colour of eyes before.

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This entry was posted in desire, love, personal, Poem, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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