little do they know

they tell you, “don’t stay out here by yourselves, it’s dangerous”
without knowing how that little pink tube attached to your keys is a force to be reckoned with
they tell you, “i’ll walk you to your car”
but when they’re the opposite of your sex, your adrenaline rushes with what their true intentions could be
they tell you “you sure you don’t want me to follow you home? it’s dark out already”
something’s dark alright, and it’s not the night sky

you decide to take an evening class for once
it’s a film course about gaze, both male and female
the irony is hilarious to you as you leave that very same class and walk across a shadowed campus
into a parking garage

7pm
people still mingle and your guard goes down
maybe evening classes aren’t so bad

but what about the streets that aren’t filled with people?
the ones that you wish to blast music through and eat your MCD fries with gluttony
the ones that your parents tell you is sketchy

but they say that about every road don’t they?

where is she

flowers come and go
you gain a bouquet & slowly, it withers away

now where is the girl who gave me that bouquet, the one sitting atop my kitchen counter?
where did she go

where was she when i felt the fear that i would not wake up
the fear that i was riddled with carcinogens
the fear that i’m not bound to one attraction

where was she when i knew i needed that surgery
she wasn’t the first one i told and that terrifies me

i don’t know where she is anymore
not since one became two

i don’t know where i’ll be
when two becomes three

please come back to me
please please please

p.s.

photo credit belongs to me