Is it meant to be like this?
Two faces are pushed together
and we call it a kiss?
Two tongues are mushed and squished,
back and forth,
forth and back.
My sweaty palms reach
for his body to balance myself
but I still feel unstable.
There’s so much going on
but
still not enough.
My moment hasn’t arrived,
no sparks ignited,
I try and feel for some butterflies but
it seems as though they’ve all died.
The fireworks lay sleeping like my heart,
I listen out for a beat but she is still
still.
silent.
distracted.
I don’t really like this?
But it seems he does and he wants more.
Maybe I’m just immature
or maybe I’m just unsure
There’s a first time for everything but also a second,
third, fourth, fifth.
I feel like there should be something more
but every time I fall short.
My love does not grow, instead the only thing increasing
is the pressure from being around him.
He asks for a walk.
It’d be nice to talk.
However the only movement from his lips come from leaning
towards mine.
I guess I’m not good enough for a simple conversation
and so this continues.
And so my insecurities stay sealed to my lips
where I believe they belong.
Useful.
Only to be voiced later on to an unsympathetic ear.
Confused as I am
when I question.
Is it meant to be like this?
By Phoebe Wiseman.