Her winged-tipped eyes
sparkling in mine,
speaking a hundred words
I don't yet know how to read.
Blonde-streaked hair
resting against my shoulder,
the soft weight of her sleep
while my own mind races.
Naps on my sleeve,
shared Pinterest boards,
secret Insta stories
whispering her devotion.
But I am standing still,
questioning which way the compass turns—
unsure if my heart beats for boys,
or if it's learning to lean toward girls,
unsure if I could ever be the one for her.
I trace the edges of my own reflection,
wondering when the rules changed,
or if I was just reading a language
I never learned to speak.
It’s a strange kind of vertigo,
looking at a future I never pictured,
wondering if this sudden gravity
is a new truth, or just a passing storm.
She looks at me like home,
but I am still packing my bags,
standing on the porch of who I used to be,
looking out at a horizon I can't quite name.
She deserves someone
who knows their heart's desires,
someone whose purpose
is a steady flame for hers.
She deserves a hand
that never wavers in the dark,
a love she can fall onto
without a single doubt in the room.