Okay, whatever, I’m a 98
So I’ve never watched porn
So I’ve never had sex
So I’ve never been kissed
So I’ve never been on a date
So I’ve never been looked at like the
Sun to someone’s moon
Yes, trust me, I know I’m a 98
But that list only counts the things
I’ve never done and the two I have
And if you just asked me a question or two
I’d tell you the truth
No, I’ve never watched porn,
I’m too busy watching people fall in love with each other
Tripping over words with red cheeks
And smiles that are more meaningful than
A video of people pretending they can act
And no, I’ve never had sex
But that’s because no boy has ever looked
At me and said that I hold constellations in my eyes
Or love on my lips
Or words that make him stay up sometimes and
Wonder if I write about him too
So no, I’ve never been kissed either,
And that’s an easy one to explain
Because they all say I’m too much to handle
With sharp words and a sharper wit
And a fear of what I never thought to explore
No, I’ve never been on a date
And that’s why I’m stuck at a 98
Because words aren’t wishes and the
Letters stuck on a page can’t come to life
No matter how much I beg
And no, I’ve never been looked at like the sun
To someone’s moon but that’s because I’m
Falling in love with boys that don’t care
And the list is long but they’re why
I’m stuck at a 98
So here’s to the boy with cinnamon freckles
And a kindergarden crush that cried over
A purple power ranger and who I dreamed
Of kissing in the dark
And to the one with eyes so green they held
Fields belonging to another world and who
Loved my best friend in the way only kids can
Here’s to the boy with hair of gold,
Sunbeams caught in the strands and a Kentucky twang
He never really outgrew
And his friends that convinced me he wanted to dance
But he was made for mountains not this
Wooden floor
And to the two I’d rather forget
Boys with promises on sugar lips of
Kisses and far-away lands that never
Came true and sometimes I forget we
Were different back then and their words
Once were enchanting
Here’s to the boy with hate thick on his tongue
And hands I thought were a threat that
Held my books between his palms like water
And surged against me like a tide
I regret that I loved too late
To the one I never stopped talking to
Who told me love doesn’t exist and
Yet tries to fall because breaking hearts
Isn’t his game, but his habit and he can’t
Help it; the one before made him this way
Here’s to the boy I loved a week
That taught me to dance under the stars
And loved the girl with the princess voice
Enough that he drowned in the ocean of feelings
To the one who I thought could take me
Down to a 97 with an arm around my
Waist and a night in blankets on the floor
With words whispered in my ear that fooled
Me into thinking there was more
Finally, to the boy I write for now
With a gentleman’s grace and
Fingers that once held mine
The boy with too many languages on his tongue
A ballroom in his feet and secrets that
He doesn’t know what it means for people to stay
So yes, I’m a 98 only because
You asked me the wrong questions,
So how could I ever have the right answers?