HOT MESS

 

You made

me feel

I had

to hide

everything about

myself when

I was 

much younger, 

whilst I

fancied the

hell out

of you

straight man.

 

Tonight, I

bumped into

you on

way to

queer poetry

night in

London Bridge.

That second,

I became

hot mess.

Pulled on

strings of

your backpack

to stop

you and

say hi.

 

Quick hug

as you

ran for

train or

were you

running away

from me?

Even now,

in just

twenty seconds,

you pulled

my strings.

I could

almost hear

the symphony pounding out my heart.