She was fourteen when a boy
told her he had a crush on her.
After a few weeks of dating
he asked her “when can we have sex?”
She said “NO” and she never heard
from him again.
She was fifteen when a boy
gave her a dozen pink flowers
and held her around the waist and
whispered heart melting words
into her left ear. The boy was
Strangling her with pretty words
and warm kisses. After three weeks
of dating he told her “you are so
Lovely I love you. Maybe we can have
Sex soon?” She said “I love you too
But I am not ready” and then the boy
walked away and a few days later she
saw him give flowers to the blonde
down the street.
She was sixteen when a boy
wrote her a love poem and touched
her thigh. She was sixteen when
a boy introduced her to his parents.
She finally thought “he really loves me.”
She was sixteen when she was left
alone with a boy who was not one of
her siblings or brother. She was sixteen
when a boy was making out with her
and attempted to get inside her pants.
“Should I get a condom?” He asked
with joy interlaced to his words.
She was sixteen when she said
“No I am not ready” to the boy who
offered a condom. She was sixteen
when a boy told her,
“You are a pussy you are no good.
It’s over between us.”
She was seventeen when she was
naked in front of a mirror and asked
herself “do boys only want me for my body?”
“Are my body parts the only reason why boys want me?”
“Is a boy ever going to want me for the inner thoughts
I carry within my mind?” “Do they even know I have a mind?” “Will a boy ever want me for my interior not my exterior?”
mosaics are made from broken pieces but they’re still works of art and so are you