Letters to Crushes

Oh, you are so beautiful!

Your eyes are so green, aren’t they?

I often think about your body and your feet—are they clean when you go to bed? Whenever I’m ovulating, I look so good and feel incredibly horny for your balls. I just love how you move through the world, sad or hopeful, like a baby rabbit. Let me be the person who treats you right, someone who never disappoints you but still drops you like a warm potato at just the right moment. Speak with me in the languages that carry me. Let me go on vacation alone, own a dog, and never let me drink wine alone again. I wish your skin (your coat) wasn’t just a secret message meant only for me.

How I would love to be the one you promise total devotion to. From HAVING to BEING, and back to LOVE. Trying all the family members until you lose all your fears. Imagine that love is only for certain souls—souls who can recognize your worth. There is only love... only me and forever. Your golden curls, your breathing when you sleep. Oh, you beautiful creature!

By all means, let me not be in an open relationship with you so you know it’s okay to commit. Let’s do therapy together. Start a company. Sell well. Let’s go to Italy and wear suits until the police find us and send us to Scandinavia. We are so fucking white. How can I become more of myself and share that with you, like a silly Sunday?

Dear,

Today I realized you’re just a fetish. I’m so sad about how you think you’re living queerness, but you’re actually just objectifying yourself and others—offering and cutting off inconsistently. You seem to hate femme fatale bodies, and now I’ll make a Muse out of you because I’ve started to femme you back. These days, in the Eclipse, I will make a doll of you to carry as a modernistic lucky charm wherever I go. Was there ever a time more banal and brutal regarding our bodies?

I think we’ve become much more subtle with violence. You’re pure poison for me. If my desire reflects my ability to love, then maybe I don’t love myself enough? Is my belly too fat? Are my breasts too far apart? Should I become a lesbian? Everyone tells me it makes no sense that I’m into queers with penises. I also can’t stand penetration in that sense anymore. I’d rather have someone who makes me soup when I’m sick. But I never seem to find these people, and it’s obviously not you. Is it true? Are they all just narcissistic sociopaths?

So where do I run to find a little peace? Is it more important to me that you remain silent and cowardly? What is this monkey screaming in my head heading toward? I wish I didn’t want to fuck you so badly. It’s so annoying, but I really can’t touch this cake of yours. My dead ex said you’re my new totem. You are so shallow and subtly evil in such an insane way. Don’t show your wounds, just be honest. I know you’ll never give me comfort. Someone else has power over you because they ignore parts of you—your childhood dustiness. You mirror yourself in the desires of others.

Dear,

Yesterday, I realized you don’t exist because I am never truly seen. You’re supposedly only angry at your own division. Logically, that must be the reason—you’re only mad at yourself. How often have I met people without empathy for others? Nowadays, everyone has trauma and flowers. I want to be sugar. Always melt at the sight of you. If only I could see how insanely boring you are. Not even interested in the world, just in the garbage it produces. Childish annoyances.

This city demands the only right thing from me at this moment: write poetry. Wet me with your foreskin.

Dear,

Your friends look at me as if they know something about me I’ve never noticed about myself. Why is there a separation between the casual and the serious? Is love only an intense matter for one night? God, how I wish I were like the "other" girls. No wonder your cock rises better for them. God, I wish I were your cock, so I could split you like a sword with the clitoris of those other girls. God, I wish I were your buddy—the one you finally trust. God, I want to be chosen, like someone picks a magician to help them.

I’m so high from yesterday and all the days you’ve stuck to me. How I wish I had you with me forever.